Mercy
by damnation soldier
Summary: It's bitter sweet the fact that he reminded her of Mako. -Asami/Iroh II
1. Flow

**_A/N: Okay, this is completely risky for me, having tons of other fics to write but I just can't resist. I'm a true Makorra fan and I believe it is endgame so.. why bother changing facts? But I do feel that Asami needs some lovin', and someone voiced by Dante Basco just cannot go single on the show, it's the law of nature. Tee-hee. So AsamixIroh series, I plan a minimum of ten of these bits, they can range from different times. Enjoy! Read and review please!_**

* * *

The only reason they've went onto the United Forces fleet was the fact that hiding on the main land had proven difficult and the procedure had finished its task. Asami huffed, hot breath escaping into the crisp dry air in the chilly evening.

Mako was somewhere below deck, with Korra obviously. Their recon mission had given amiable intelligence that needed further discussing and planning. They were probably in the control room, meeting up with authorities and allies.

She had gotten herself up on deck because inside it had been too stuffy, and no doubt if she were to participate, she'd be voiceless no matter what brilliant strategy she managed to come up with. She could just imagine it so easily.

_"Who are you to tell us what our game plan is?"_

_"You're nothing but a non bender!"_

_"Your traitorous father is nothing but an equalist!"_

_"You'll lead us to sabotage!"_

_"Like father like daughter..."_

She clasped her hands tightly on the railing, tension turning her knuckles white. Asami looked over the cool metal and saw the lurking water below, churning waves capable of swallowing giant masses whole and takes a wary step back. _  
_

She's an expert at driving and the technical mechanics of any Satomobile, justice to her name of course but here on this floating cruise she feels ill to the bone.

_It's just so slow._

The former heiress gulps down the incoming bile she's sure to rise up and vomit soon after. She had been awkward when they walked the plank, Bolin had reassured her that being aboard on a ship was fine, a harmless experience. He quoted it would be gentle, steady as the earth.

He had been proven wrong by the Sato girl just a half hour later, when she quickly excused herself to the bathroom, throwing up whatever garbage she's consumed these last few days.

Truthfully, she felt a lot better after getting rid of the disgusting food she recalls to have eaten before but the nausea never seemed to subside completely.

Asami gazed at the horizon and the endless movements of the sea.

_Think of the rhythm. It's continuous. Tips from one side to another, like... Like dancing! Yes- oh, forget it. _

She tries to envision those balls and galas she's been to, with nice dresses and dashing waltz partners and the music just helps her sway - when a particularly harsh wave rocked the ship, making her stumble and forcing her to grip on the railings once more as a leverage. _  
_

"Are you alright?" The male voice approached her, as his firm footsteps marched forward. It wasn't quite Bolin's tone and surely it wasn't Mako, it lacked the bit of town side accent the fire bender has.

Asami opens her previously closed eyes and hides her grimace. "Just fine," she turns to her only visitor on the empty wooden deck and pauses a moment, "General Iroh."

She had not spoken to him, for the avatar is always the public figure and the largest above all for her power. She sometimes wondered why had she been born as something so... meaningless.

She had been rich at first, and it was a great luxury she enjoyed but it had also led to ridiculous assumptions and jealousy. Korra's first impression of her could be noted as the perfect example.

And now, she's stripped of her wealth. She accepts it, because she thought she had something worth fighting for. Her beliefs and Mako. The second one proved to be more difficult and frustrating as he barely tried to rekindle any passion with the unsure young woman.

The General was of royalty, and Asami didn't find it hard to believe. Control, poise almost radiated off his being. And he was younger than she expected, maybe just a few years ahead of her.

It's bitter sweet the fact that he reminded her of Mako.

Same gold eyes, ivory skin, ebony hair.

But there were startling differences too. His eye brows weren't as sharp as the pro bender, his thick hair was also tamed unlike the wild yet likeable quality of the orphaned boy's locks, his fire bending (at least from what she heard of it) was of the ancient style just like the Fire Sages era - making everything about his bending form ageless unlike the cool under fire style she's watched a million times in the arena, and most of all he's not indecisive.

The Prince slash General was top notch at demonstrating command, always unmoved and purposeful in any situation. His troops held utmost respect for the young man, and Asami thought even Lin Beifong, the former chief of police would be quite pleased that his soldiers were an asset to their side of the war.

She scoots a little to the side to let him stand by closer. "Ms. Sato, may I ask why were you absent in the recent meeting?" His words were kind, soft even, with a hint of curiosity. "It is a shame we weren't graced with your presence, I've heard you're a remarkable technician for land based Sato vehicles.."

"I apologize, I didn't think my opinion would be relevant," Asami politely answered.

"Why, though I do not support Amon's mission, I do in fact follow through judgment with equality," the man in regal clothes replied. Asami lets herself smile. "I'd be sure to try and come next time."

The response was satisfactory that the royal nodded. "Are you having trouble adjusting to our method of transport?"

"To be honest, yes. I hate it up here, I'm sorry if this is offensive," she admitted.

The general let out a subtle hand to gesture the comment was alright. "I wasn't fond when I started out here too, but I was lucky to have what I wanted to do. Lead and fight alongside my men."

"I know what you mean," Asami chided. She's aware of the history of Fire Lord Zuko, General Iroh's grandfather. He had the most tiresome, straining journey at sea for years for a destiny forced upon him. Capturing the avatar.

The great man, she's heard of becomes a true legend for a series of right decisions. He's sacrificed so much to help the avatar and restore balance to the world.

"Well, there was also one thing that truly aided me..." He began almost mysteriously.

"And what's that?" The female non bender asked.

"Tea," he replies with a fond smile and Asami finds it enlightening that someone so influential enjoys such a simple delight. True, this General Iroh before her had been named after the famed Great Dragon of The West, but turns out additionally to the clear mind and natural talent to orchestrate military matters he inherited the extra bit as well.

It was no rumor that the first General Iroh was an exceptional fire bender, the only one capable of both generating lightning and inventing as well as performing the ingenious lightning redirection technique in the era, and that he was a great tea maker. In fact the Jade Dragon, a tea shop he's opened while on the run with his nephew in the Earth Kingdom amidst the hundred year war, still existed and even expanded in present day.

"To help you feel comfortable Ms. Sato, what would you say if I invite you to my office for tea?" And like the perfect gentleman, he extended a hand for the lady to take.

"Of course, I'd be honored. But please, call me Asami," she wasn't flirting, was she? Who cares.

The general smiles brightly, looking as handsome as ever. "An eye for an eye then. Call me Iroh," he insisted.

Asami lightly placed her hand in his and followed down the stairs. Though the boat still swayed time after time, she finds herself not wanting to spill her guts out anymore.


	2. Learn

**_A/N: Thanks for the response in the first chapter. Here's another bit for you guys. Please take the time to leave a review, it'd give me a great boost to write more. Enjoy!_**

* * *

Asami sat cross legged by the one of the few wooden benches set above the open deck. Korra was in the process of sparring with four of Iroh's soldiers. Two of them were fire benders, one water and the last a non bender. The non bender wielded a spear proficiently.

Bolin had been eager to be one of Korra's opponent, but being a bit behind on unarmed fighting (since there's no earth around in the middle of the ocean) was reprimanded by Mako to not join in. Annoyed, he decided to cheer himself up by touring around the ship with Pabu, possibly to raid some food from the stocked fridge.

His older brother let him without a grudge, recalling the memory of having the match's earnings being swiped back because of the ludicrous amount of grocery the earth bender cost them.

Asami kept a straight face, having frowned earlier because of Mako's overwhelming attentiveness in watching the avatar train. The fire bender wasn't even sitting down next to his girl friend, preferring to stand tall to get a good view.

_I'm not going to fuss about this. I'm not-_

"Korra, let me spar with you!" The eighteen year old next to her runs off to the center of the deck. The benders who were fighting the avatar quickly disposed of their elements and parted to make way for the pro bender to step in. Korra who had taken the spear which belonged to the non bender swiftly tossed it back and said her thanks for letting them be her punching bag. Well, not in those exact words.

"How many elements?" Korra asked as the requirement.

"Whatever you like," Mako responded, gathering a meager amount of hot flames in his hands. Korra mirrored his actions before charging in. The two elements collide, like an intimate dance.

Mako went in for a flurry of attacks, mainly relying on his agility and pro bending training. The seventeen year old avatar, despite wanting to use her go to element, opted to use the ocean as an advantage. While doing a back flip her legs motioned for the water and quickly threw the element to dodge the stream.

The fire was ousted, and the water evaporated into steam.

Asami is secretly grateful for the cover, so she doesn't really have to see what's going on. The perspective wasn't hers at first, but in due time she understood that being deprived of the visual knowledge that the fire bender and the avatar were close is much better than being privileged of it.

She hears the shuffling next to her and is led to guess that the earth bender has returned. Her assumption is proven correct as the squeaks of the fire ferret was heard.

Detecting a projectile coming her way, the non bender easily side stepped the oncoming ice shards, well trained reflexes coming in handy. While Bolin barely gets out of the way, having only a second to spare to be impaled by the icicle.

Green eyes wide, he yells out. "Korra, watch it with the ice please!"

"Sorry Bo, my bad!" Courtesy of the avatar, the steam was cleared away in order to prevent anymore bracing obstacles to be shot at the audience.

The earth bender looks at the raven haired woman with a trace of confusion, yet mostly awe since she was absolutely unmoved unlike the small scale heart attack he just had.

"How are you doing this, woman?" Asami laughs at the exclamation, enjoying herself for once.

* * *

He's aware of the practice session that's been going on for quite some time above deck. In fact it had been him who granted the avatar the right to use his men for the much needed session.

He takes interest in her abilities because she was the front of this battle, a key person to determine their chances so it makes it his concern to stop by and observe himself.

He's walking up the stairs and hears a soft, feminine laughter and recognizes whom it belongs to. Smiling at their uneventful yet pleasant time at his office just a few days ago, he lets himself be distracted for a moment by her entrancing beauty.

Asami had been a delicate, yet a strong person and their conversation certainly wiped what some of his men had eluded him into thinking of the infamous heiress.

She stood by justice, despite all she has to give up, or what she truly is - a mere non bender.

He's pretty sure he's impressed, and it takes a lot to impress him but the Sato girl certainly did wonders. It is evident that she was well educated, given her manners and intelligence. But the most special of all was her weary, yet undying heart.

He entertains himself with the prospect of how she compares to those Fire Nation noble women he's associated, and had once been bound to court and potentially wed someday - so different, so much better.

There was none like her.

_The grace, yet never arrogant. That_ _dedication- what the? This is absurd, I shouldn't be thinking like this. _

He intently witness the native Southern Water Tribe girl unleashed her bending prowess against the fire bender. Her opponent is using well yet strangely incorporated moves. He assumes that this must be those modern styles being used in Republic City's pro bending these days. _  
_

It was corrupt, he knew of it but can't help to be slightly mesmerized and even appreciative at the distinctive, odd yet creative techniques.

_What was his name again? Oh, yes.. Mako._

It must've served its intended purpose in his typical combat, with the agility, fast rounded assaults, and to be fair he admires that the boy's style actually adequately served defensive maneuvers. _  
_

However, he notes that it lacked the absolute ferocity traditional styles could garner. A slightly biased opinion of his was the fact that the Prince could see the hidden hesitance in his amber orbs to attack the avatar.

_He must have feelings for her. He's holding back too much._

Iroh is able to read between the lines, seeing the sad glances the remarkable young woman he's gotten to know recently would cast over to the man with the red scarf. He knows of the tension, the discomfort she's tried to cover up whenever he passes by.

_Asami's in the middle of this._

The avatar on the other hand, though her bending was also slightly influenced by her opponent's style perhaps because of the fact that she was also a pro bender, still never forgot her basics - having show cased the aged forms a fair amount of times.

Iroh wasn't worried about her. The seventeen year old girl was a living, breathing weapon, well oiled and brilliantly using her bending to the extremes. She's brushed up her arts to the max, only having sub elements unlearned. A small part of him, the never ending critique even wants to admit that the girl was a fire bender at heart, having little to no restraint, opting to fight like a true warrior.

It was great, even an irony to back track to her previous incarnation, Avatar Aang who had been a justified pacifist.

On the other hand, Mako who was born a fire bender, had lacked his violent streak and never having picked up his true bending roots, only being adapted to the new forms. It was rather worrying to his eyes.

"May I interrupt?" He steps in calmly, and Korra interjects. "What's the matter? Was I sloppy?"

He's aware of the avatar's nature, hot headed and all but he's grateful that he's able to come across quite well, earning her respect almost effortlessly.

"No, not at all. I can see that your water bending's sharp," _A little too sharp actually. _He steals a view to some of the panels which have been lodged with high pressured ice, work done by the avatar herself. She smiles sheepishly in an attempt to apologize and he brushes it off, claiming that he's used to the damages, in fact it reflected the amount of productive progress made.

"I'd actually like to talk to your friend. Mako, isn't it?" Said fire bender who had been walking off turned at the mention of his name.

"What is it, General?" Mako addresses him formally. Iroh doesn't miss the slightly far off look the younger man has when the avatar left the scene, not sticking around since having the feeling that it wasn't her concern anymore. The former pro bender stands in his place, curious of the royal's intent.

"How would you like to brush up on some of the original fire bending?"

_And maybe get straightened out with that little act of yours. _


	3. Fear

**_A/N: I want to say my thanks for the feedback. So here's another chapter I've recently written, hope you guys like it! Please keep the reviews coming, they help a lot to motivate me._ **

* * *

Iroh feels irked when he glances at his pocket watch.

_What am I? A wolf bat?_

Yet he knows full well that this kind of occurrence is a permanent request of his task. The young general is aware of the stinging in his eyes, the demand to droop close and just sleep, like the rest of the ship's inhabitants.

Things were so much easier when he'd been back at the palace, in his teenage years, only having the responsibility to complete his prince training. Though there were expectations and boundaries he had to stand by, there was no absolute consequence if he were to take things slow and such.

Therefore, the pressure, out here in the sea and being called by the avatar falls onto him tenfold. The burden compared to what the girl herself has to carry is of course much lighter, but he was just human, not the god like manifestation she is.

But as usual, despite his aching muscles he managed.

Striding past the staff kitchen, after devouring a small roll from the crew's dinner left overs for a snack, he made his way back to his quarters. The corridors were dark, only illuminated by the small fire torches resting on the side of the wall, separated by a fair amount of distance.

His ears twitched at the sound of movements other than his own, detecting a presence in what he thought was a deserted hall.

His body heat intensifies from the adrenalin, and across his peripheral vision spots the shadow of a slim figure at the end of the hall. It quickly vanished, abandoning the position demanding a chase from the prince.

_An intruder! There's no reason to run otherwise! _

Speedily going after the unknown person, he feels his legs burning. Whoever the mysterious target was, he or she was adept at parkour.

But he was absolutely determined, and miraculously despite his weak, stomped out wish of rest, the prince caught up. Swiftly leaping, it takes him an instant to roughly slam the unknown meddler into the hard column of the wall.

His hands briefly touched the person's arm, it was covered in an inconspicuous heavy item. The small amount of light from the torch meters away gave him a clue of what it was. It glinted of metal, and the volume of it gave it away.

Sheer panic drives him as Iroh pulls the person into the warmth of the fire, who seems to have not moved, for reasons he does not understand or harm him either way such that he does not even have to resolve to fire bend.

It's not as dark anymore and he could see who it is. Fair skin, ruby red lips, and frightened emerald eyes.

"Asami?" He's shocked, wildly at that and he's guilty and confused at the sight of the shaken young woman. Thank Agni, he had not done something stupid, like hurting her. Or maybe he did. Worry washes over him.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

Recollecting herself, the non bender shook her head.

"No, Iroh. I'm fine. It's my fault, I shouldn't be lurking like that," her voice is smooth, a lie to convince him she's alright but she's not. He sees through her like an open book.

"What were you doing outside your room? You should be asleep by now," he reasons.

"I couldn't. I was just upstairs to get some fresh air," the green eyed girl admits, tired from the nightmares. His fingers traced the exposed skin of her arm and stops, "You're freezing."

She's hopeless enough not to put up a fight when he leads her by the hand.

* * *

"I'm really sorry for disturbing you," Asami lightly placed down the tea cup after taking a sip. The jasmine tea rejuvenated her, dulling the cold she felt earlier. They're both accompanied by the sound of the brewing storm from out the small circular window, unforgiving nature at work.

Iroh sits across from her, pouring more tea before plopping down on the cushion. His office is currently a mess, paper work strewn out here and there, because he had been working before but it should be delayed after his rather off putting encounter with her.

"No, it's quite alright. My mind wasn't up for this anymore."

A pause and they're engulfed in silence. His concerned voice asks her to look him in the eyes.

"Asami, though I am aware that-" he points at the electrifying glove she's adorned, "is your weapon of choice, I do not think it is necessary to wear it when you wander these halls with us."

He doesn't want to reprimand her, but apparently he does come across as so and she crumbles.

She looks too troubled to speak, reverting back to the beautiful stranger he stumbled upon then, so he takes the opportunity to continue. "My men's first instinct if they saw a stranger with that would be to incapacitate them. If it hadn't been me, you could've been harmed."

The coincidence that it had been him was a blessing. He knew if it had been someone else, anyone else, she could've been gone. Accident or not. He trained his men to be capable, cautious, and ferocious. They were well versed in taking kill shots, and the same goes for him.

"I- I don't feel safe." She's reminded of the feeling when her fingers caressed the red fabric of his scarf, how far miles apart they are from that carriage ride in Republic City park, and feels suffocated.

"I lost my mother at a young age to a fire bender. I didn't just lose her that night," she exhales and Iroh looks on how broken she is. He knows of Hiroshi, how he'd been a traitor despite being one of the most well known and trusted figures in the public.

"When my friends were ambushed, my father offered me to join the equalists. Basically handed me the strength I needed," looking down at the dark colored glove, trembling slightly. "It was tempting, but it wasn't right. I took it, and got my friends out of-,"

_What used to be my home._

"-there."_  
_

Her vision's blurry and she feels the tears welling up no matter how bad she doesn't want it to. She's realized each time she's confided in Mako, there was a subtlety about it that never revealed a side of regret or shame.

Not like this one. "It gave me a sense of security."

She's only figured it out now, how she couldn't take the stupid weapon off. It mocked her for the very core of her being, who she is, who she could and couldn't be. It was everything that resembled her father, the war, the bloodshed and she won't, can't release it.

Her self defense classes for years doesn't matter, her mindset doesn't matter. She's weak, unprotected, and that will never change.

Iroh reaches out to this petrified girl, and pulls back a lock of loose black hair behind her ear.

"As long as I'm here, I guarantee your safety," he's as genuine as a mirror could get, nothing else but the clear, promised truth.

For some reason, as she laid in her cot that night, she's compelled to let it go, trust him to let herself be recklessly defenseless. Her glove rests on top of a dresser, not far from her reach, but suspended, distanced and... freed.

Eventually a dreamless slumber claims her.


	4. Fuel

**_A/N: Don't know why I'm posting updates daily... but I kinda am because turns out I could so why not? Review please, it would mean the world to me! :)  
_**

* * *

The fleet ported by the coast of Yue Bay at the crack of dawn, underneath rocky cliff sides to be sternly shaded and hidden. The troops marched through the accessible underground tunnels, in a single beat, fast and driven.

It's been forty eight hours for them in the shadows, and it's the beginning of the end. Faint echoes can be heard from the land above, no doubt the rampage delivered from Amon. It's a wonder they've waited this long, taking the precious time to plan, while each minute they spent down there, no matter how well spent was equivalent to another home burned, another family destroyed, and another man void of soul.

Asami never knew what it tasted like to wield an element, and will never be granted such a thing but she knows to be taken of such a crucial ability would be the same as being ripped of your heart, being stabbed in your achilles heel.

It leaves you bitter, broken and scarred.

Even she'll never have to undergo that, she's willing to stand up for the people who are cursed with the possibility. They're getting ready, preparing their minds and body to perform. Stationed at the interchange of the tunnel, they were at the divergent of different paths.

North heads out above, south heads down while east and west spreads outward in a lesser altitude. It was a cross point for their separation, their duties.

She clenched her hand, rewarding herself with the tight feel of the gauntlet, to assure herself she'd always have a line of defense by her side.

Fighting with the enemy's weapon supposed to give her some sort of twisted hesitation or remorse, limit her conscience and such but it doesn't. In fact, she's anxious for battle, ready and empowered.

She wills herself to be vicious, because it's kill or be killed out there. She's grown up sooner than she's imagined, but perhaps this is what it means to be mature, accepting fate.

Mako approaches her, a sight she needs to take a double take on (despite having seen the same these last few days) since he's not wearing his scarf. She assumes he wants to keep the memento safe, and doesn't blame him.

"Asami, I'm sorry I haven't been-," he began, and if she's the same girl she was before; self-important, stubborn and jealous - she would've cut him off right there and snapped.

"You don't have to say it, Mako," she presses a hand on his shoulder, fingers trailing to the crook of his collar bone and freezes. It doesn't have to be painful, and it's better if some things are just left unsaid.

"It's alright, really I understand.." She does in a sick intake of the scenario because he really isn't meant for her and is also clueless and confused at the same time, torn at why he can't be.

He gives her a lopsided grin, and her insecurities are laid bare because she can't deny how much the act takes a toll on her emotions. She blinks once, and instead of the explicit army green equalist suit he's dressed in, he's back in orange gear, spiked hair stuffed in a helmet.

Cheers from the crowd erupt, as extravagant spotlight dwindles from place to place, excited to land on the captain as he steps onto the platform and into the game.

The very same smile is on his face. His honey gold eyes is hopeful like he always is, and her heart is thumping against her chest.

Then everything but her drumming pulse vanished.

He's standing there, right in front of her, so real and different. So many things have changed. He's no longer just fighting for the money he and his little brother needs to survive. He finds a nobler cause, a hungrier fire, a love unlike any other.

And it's Korra. Not her.

He'll be willing to jump headfirst into the commotion, just to be by her side, just to save her once she needs it. He's more selfless than before, and he's outgrown himself. He's outgrown her.

Asami doesn't know whether she should be proud and encouraging or to just wallow and bury herself in sorrow because she's not a part of him anymore. And she will never be.

_Let go. And you will find what is destined to be yours. _

It was her mother's advice. To her dad when he's losing sales against another industry during the good old days when Future Industries had been just a tiny ember in the dark, to herself when she loses those unimportant material possessions. _  
_

She never knew what it was to lose something then. Now she knew.

She's not a little girl anymore, and she's going to live up to that.

"Good luck," she shakes his hand in reminiscent to how they collided when she crashed onto him with her moped. He'd been the one back then tumbling and falling down, now it's her turn and she takes the full blow.

And it's like telling him to chase his dreams in pro bending, only heavier because she doesn't get to rush herself into his arms after he's won, they won. There's no such things as 'they' now.

No anticipation, no being helplessly head over heels because it's all over.

It's the sweetest, lightest feeling she's ever felt, when he leans down for a chaste kiss on her temple.

_This is the last time._ _This is goodbye._

"Thank you, Asami," he breathes and his touch is gone as he walks, parting ways into completely different journeys.

She watches as his form slowly disappear into the darkness of the tunnel depths. She's muted out the sounds of things all around her, just rooted to her spot - tortured in her own unnecessary agony of watching him leave.

She doesn't turn away because the realer it gets, the better.

A tap on her shoulder sends her to meet the warm face. "Are you alright?"

She's not as downcast, stoic or silent as he expected her to be, and it's refreshing, a sign of stone hard endurance prevailing. "I am. Why wouldn't I be?" She raises an eyebrow, endearing green eyes set on him.

Iroh shifts on his boots, contemplating his words. He doesn't want to lose her. The exuberant being in front of him was too enchanting to ever replace. He feels the onslaught of relief coming over him, because she's finally accepted Mako's unspoken decision.

"Just be careful," he peers over her slightly shorter stature, praying that this isn't going to be the last of her, that she's going to... "Come back safe, alright?"

Asami closes the distance between them and leans up to kiss him full on the lips. She grabs at the fabric of his jacket, thick and present. Iroh's breath leaves him shortly before he intercepts her actions, pulling her by the back of the neck, hand tangled in the mass of her luscious hair.

Eyes closed, Asami wonders is this what Korra had felt when she kissed Mako during the tournament?

The intense flame of longing, the dangerous drop of dejected panic, the unexplainable yet possessive impulse to start all of the arguably immobilizing sensation.

Right from the beginning, she's always known her weakness was resilience. Her resilience to care for another, to share her affections, to give out her love to take. It always meant that she was generous, and that she'd always be the one most fatal to damage.

But she doesn't care. She won't care for herself, no matter how little she has in the past. Driving away into the chaos with her life on the line meant that she was doing this for names other than her own.

When the last bit of oxygen was spared in their lungs, they parted breathlessly. "I will," she lets out as certain as she can be, and all she can see is Iroh with that meaningful look on his face, one that she doesn't mind seeing again.

Asami lets go, runs into the parked Satomobile the guards specifically snatched for her near the suburbs, jumps into her seat and revs the engine.

She doesn't need to turn back to be aware that she left him absolutely speechless.


	5. Resolve

**_A/N: I can't express how grateful I feel at the positive feedback you guys gave me. Thank you! Here's another chapter (a slightly longer one at that, set post Endgame), and I hope you guys like it! R&R please!_**

* * *

When Hiroshi Sato and the rest of Amon's followers found out that their leader was a fraud, the police department and the United Republic council had decided that they'd be all ears to their testimony so that minimal sentencing can be brought.

Surely there was no way for any of Noatak's former affiliates to be freed, but since it had been quite the hell of a trickery, they should be on terms with the akin charge for their crimes.

However instead of surrendering in a dignified manner, Hiroshi did not want to subject to the metal bending force, opting to fight for Amon's supposedly non existent cause, blinded by his revenge.

His mind went downhill from there, going wild just at the sight of small fire or electricity ripping since he's reliving his wife dying right there right before his eyes again when the event had happened so long ago. Such a sight provided the illusion of a fire bender's projection, either fire or lightning, and the middle aged man's reaction to a bender of said element was even drastically worse.

Babbling either nonsense or extremely prejudicial accusations when questioned, he was declared mentally unstable and to be taken care of, well detained in the Inner Health Conservation of Republic City. In other words, a crack house for the clinically insane.

Jail or any other kind of detention facility wasn't an option due to his condition, it is assumed if he were to be sent to such a place, the man might fatally cripple himself.

That choice was made several days ago, when all of the equalists roaming the town were captured by the police department whose members' bending were restored by the avatar.

Having returned to her family's mansion (it was just hers now) then, Asami sat at the cushioned work chair, squished in the mountains of letters and documents atop the table and beyond. The previously tidy office was cramped, with piles of boxes of archives on the carpet.

Her fingers were numb, groaning softly she clicked the top of her pen, preventing the waste of ink.

Spinning herself on the chair, the young woman buried herself in the feel of leather, inevitably letting herself once again breathe the scent of her father.

She recalled how she had defended him back then, marching through the double doors while he had sat in the very same place she is today.

_"My father is innocent. Just because we're not benders doesn't mean we support those awful Equalists," she had been headstrong, uncompromising with any doubts that may exist. _

_"I think I would've noticed if there were a factory underneath my house. The lies you people come up with just to persecute my father," she bit back, having been angry, her demeanor bitter and illogically defiant._

Asami let herself laugh despite the absurdity of such an act. Just because the revolution is over and she's not in mortal danger doesn't change the fact that her life has permanently gone down in shambles.

She was facing the wall, which had been brutally transformed. It was almost plain now, except for one framed certificate for Future Industries running and proprietary. The heiress had been uncomfortable with her workspace that she had taken the liberty to hide away her family's photographs. She may have shed a tear or two at doing so, but it had been worth it. There should be nothing else haunting her.

Lamenting, she almost missed the sound of knocking on the door behind her. Without any further consideration or even bothering to turn back to the opposite direction, she had carelessly granted entry. "Come in!"

"Ms. Sato, General Iroh is here to see you," her butler announced. Asami whirled around the instant her visitor's identity was mentioned, pleasantly dizzy as she stood.

After their kiss, the last time she had seen him was during the residual revolution where medics and metal benders had been running along the aftermath destruction. The prince had been conversing with military figures, she didn't have the chance to approach him as she had been rushed by the cops as to handling her bound and chained father.

After the ordeal (which lengthened in locations; the court, police headquarters and the hospital), her mood had dwindled to a sour note, the after-wash of relief and optimism from her survival dissipated. She had even forgotten her heart racing desire to see the general.

"Hey," she greeted, as they walked and pulled each other into a short hug. "How have you been?"

"Not as busy as you apparently," Iroh's golden eyes scanned the messy room, clearly not representing any kind of organized inventory, before landing on her face, gleaming like a gem.

Asami realized that she felt immense comfort at his presence, having been alone and not even going out once ever since she came to the Sato home. "Would you like some coffee?"

She brewed two pots in the pantry earlier this morning, having built up the routine since she required the drink for her never ending work. "No, thank you," he rejected politely, half so that she wouldn't gorge herself on caffeine and half because he can't stand the stuff. He hoped his rousing suspicion of the girl having drink more than she should was wrong because he had experienced nights of extended insomnia due to excessively drinking it for his unrelenting job.

"Have the others visited you yet?" Asami shakes her head at this and he grows dissatisfied. He's assumed the group was a close bunch, and with her answer it meant that she'd been lonely all along. He should've came to her sooner.

His expression was an adequate indication to his thoughts that she responded neutrally. "I don't blame them personally. I mean, Korra has to restore half of the benders who's lost their gift to Amon and the brothers are probably tagging along."

She's trying to be as nonchalant as possible, but the lace of disappointment was still there.

Iroh glances over her shoulder and into the massive stacks of parchment. "You've been here for days," he remarked, somewhat astonished.

"And a few more if I'm going to get everything done," she sighed, but brightened at the word 'done'.

"What exactly are you doing?" He questioned, curious.

"You know what happened to my dad, right?" She began, and a look of empathy crosses the man's face as he nodded. "As sole owner, I'm shutting down Future Industries." Somehow, he's not entirely surprised. If he was in her position, he would do the same but a spark of him had been curious if she decided otherwise.

"I'm not an inventor like my father. Sure I'm good at mechanical engineering and testing, and he also trained me with the business running but a point is a point. We're supposed to release creative machinery and vehicles, and I just don't have the mind for that," he smiles at her display of self awareness and humility.

Her heavy tone had lightened by now, and it sounded as if they were just discussing the weather. "If I kept the company going, there's no use. In a few years, with the taxes, wages and without new models, we'll be crushed with the other competitors. Republic City's market structure have always been a private monopoly and it'll be like driving a car without brakes if I let my pride get in the way."

She's out of his arms by then, making her way to the windows because it feels so soothing to feel the sunshine even when it was barricaded by glass. "Besides, my dad made enough to last three of me and you'd be surprised to know how much I spend at the arena," she chuckles to herself because she's lost count of how many matches she's watched, not to mention that thirty thousand yuan she handed to Mako.

This earns her a small laugh from Iroh. He moves to stand behind her, until their bodies press and she feels his heat radiating its warmth. "There's this one favor I need to ask you.." She trailed off and he is left curious. She purposely pines back to the heel of her boots and leans into the general who instinctively wrapped his arms around her. "And what would the request be, milady?"

She felt like a princess, and not in the context of being her dad's. She was her own kind of princess, striving and collected in the rocking sea. She remembers how Mako lent his hand to Korra and helped her vault over to the car, but this, with the seclusion feels much more special. "The head of the industry's publication department ruled me out with the rest of the shareholders to organize a formal gala for the company closing," she explained, and is distracted when she feels him nuzzling her hair.

_For all that's wrong in the world today, you're the only thing right._

"Isn't that a little too much of a show-off?" He teases.

"Well, I can't argue since I'm outvoted, and that fateful night might be the night I actually freak out while giving out the release speech to my now out-of-commission father's colleagues," she tries to be overly dramatic then goes bold at the last second, pivoting to smile slyly to catch him off-guard, "But at least I have you."

Iroh isn't as easily moved, having dealt with countless women he's been set up with. Difference is, during those times he hadn't been serious or feeling anything remotely close to what he is now. So, whether she's in a dress or her day-to-day coat, he makes it his mission to sweep her off her feet. "Is this your way of asking me to escort you?" He asks, despite already knowing.

Asami didn't have the time to answer as she yelped from being spun, and _thrown_ to only be caught by him in a low dip. Amber eyes piercing, he whispered in her ear, "You're lucky I'll be stealing you at each chance I get."


	6. Mistaken

**_A/N: Fixed up some typos from last chapter. Can't believe I still missed that stuff. Shame on me, but moving on... Oh boy, these bits keep getting longer. I wanna say thank you for the opinions and kind words, I'd hug you guys if I could. So.. Here ya' go! R&R please!_**

* * *

Shaky fingers tapped the microphone, gaining undivided attention from the audience. She wouldn't lie, she knew she was having cold feet, feeling strangled just at the sight of the large, ornamental ballroom, making her feel so out of place.

She should've been used to this, and she had been, when she wasn't the one who had the company in her hands. But that's why she's there, standing rigidly behind the small podium, ready to give out the final blow.

She clears her throat. "I'd like to thank you all for attending this event. On behalf of the best outcome to our assets in the community, I'd like to mark the end of all Future Industries production. As you know," she takes a breath and neglects in calling the man her father, "Hiroshi Sato founded this expansive industry to create innovative transportation for the people of Republic City."

She spotted both appreciative and suspicious glances from her spectators.

"The work we've done will always be remembered and it has been a remarkable journey. I would like to thank all of you for supporting our progress over the years, and your efforts in the business have not been in vain." And it's difficult to end this in the correct words, but she does anyway. "I assure you, Hiroshi is very proud of Future Industries," _unlike how he feels with me._

"Have a lovely evening," she leans forward to utter her final words, before jerking back quickly. She walks down the steps, swarmed by the flashes of camera and loud questions. It reminded her of how Korra had been pressured by the blood bending councilman, except she was now in the avatar's role instead. _  
_

_"The revolution have certainly showcased the company's great potential, are you sure you're not making a big mistake in wasting it Miss Sato?"_

_"Why not just mass produce some of the mecha tanks and planes for profit in other war countries?"_

_"Do you not expect your father to make a full recovery to lead back the company?"_

_"Are you doing this just to spite him? This is after all a grand celebration..."_

_"Do you intent on spoiling yourself? Hiroshi has always said you favored parties out on the city..."  
_

_"Have you been planning any other kind of business for the Sato family to adopt?"_

She was losing her personal space, as the invading reporters cornered her at the bottom of the stairs. Asami prevented herself from showing any form of distress, either by expression or body language. She was graciously rewarded as Iroh emerged from the horde of gossip hungry people.

He straightened himself, and with poise that must've come from his princely training, gives her a curt bow of respect. Of course, he looked impeccably dashing to her eyes. Relieved, Asami effortlessly curtsied, automatic response to any man who presented himself in such a manner.

"May I have this dance?" He inquired, extending an open palm naturally. She smiled, as if saying incredulously, _Do you even need to ask? _before placing her hand in his as an answer.

He swiftly led her out to the main floor where a number of couples had already swayed by, now no longer surrounded by the irritating news people. Asami could still hear the agitated buzz they were divulging themselves in. Most of it had to do with her questionable current reputation, and some more questions. _Just who is that mysterious stranger? Isn't that girl supposedly in a relationship with the Fire Ferret Captain? Who's her new arm candy then?_

The general had been clever enough to dress himself differently. He was in a maroon suit, void of his military badges and pins. He still looked the part as full blooded Fire Nation, but effectively enclosed his status. _  
_

Iroh held her in his grasp, hand resting on her slim waist, keenly gazing at her flustered form. "Thank you for rescuing me," she still feels the urge to show how grateful she is, despite the fact that she already knew he was more than willing to do the deed.

"My pleasure," he stares down into her sparkling green orbs, intoxicated. He doesn't have to look past that to see how beautiful she looked. "I've got to hand it to you, never thought you were _that_ good with crowds. Even my grandfather had a hard time when he started," Asami smiles at the compliment, knowing the sight of a renowned fire bender and a country's former leader's temper was the same as having a dragon's wrath unleased.

"Well it makes things easier to think that it was my last time," she commented as they rotated on their spot.

She still looks uneasy above the happiness she captivated, and the idea sinks into him. "This night can get better you know.."

"As much as I enjoy dancing," her shoulders lift a little to refer to their activity, "I doubt it gets better than this. N-Not that I'm complaining," she covers herself quickly, not meaning to sound so miserable. She was with him, and she could never be like that.

Iroh snickered quietly at her expense as she blushed. He was promptly smacked in the arm playfully by the heiress, who joined the chorus with her soft giggles. "No, it really can, if we get out of here," he murmurs, and she's taken aback by his seriousness.

Just how scandalous can they get? A host and her acquaintance flees from a ball against all odds and consequences. She could just picture the head title of it in the papers... "Sato's Royal Runaway"

"As much as I like the idea," she entertains herself with the prospect of spending her time alone, privately with him as her bubble of joy burst, "I don't think we can get out unnoticed."

She tries to be logical. There was about two hundred people in the room, and no matter how spacious it is, or the varying state of alcohol influence her guests have slipped themselves in to - the chance was highly unlikely.

His eyes were challenging, paired with the attractive smirk his lips stretched into, Asami was left intoxicated. "Do you trust me?" He says it with a hidden sort of experience, and she stops herself from being hesitant.

Iroh had done this many times at the palace. Whether it was common dinner or a festive ball, he's always been rebellious in his younger years. He's grown tired of having to see noble women bat their eye lashes at him, as if demanding to be treated like an angel. So he goes out, loses himself in the velvet curtains when the guards (even his mother sometimes) tries to search for him. Then he smoothly bypassed the castle grounds. He usually goes out to the capital city, fully cloaked to blend and taste the feel of being an ordinary citizen. Even if it's just until midnight, he can't deny that he enjoys it rather than being pulled and forced to waltz with love-struck, needy nobleman daughters.

"Yes," Asami answers. Surely a few minutes later, they escaped discreetly, no eyes capable of telling so.

Iroh is mildly appalled by how the dolled up heiress kept up with his speed as they raced through the sidewalks of the empty night streets. She's tugging at him to get them to their destination, he follows her without question because she's the city girl here, and he's fairly sure he has no sense of direction with all their laughing.

Not caring whether the branches and dirt ruin her gown, Asami led the way vigorously. After stumbling through bushes and uneven concrete, the two fell onto a soft land. They ended up at the beach, where the late night waves rolled gently.

Asami's taken off her heels by now, throwing them aside into a small pile with her coat and he did the same with his jacket and boots. He looks at her from behind, an hourglass silhouette by the light of the moon. Her steps are slow as her bare feet dipped in the seawater, and he knows she's probably in some sort of tranquil, peaceful inner state and he's glad.

But he was not going to be ignored. Mischievously grinning, he raced up behind her to only force lift the maiden into his arms. "Iroh, put me down!" She manages to let this out between the shrieking and giggling.

"Not in this life time," he taunted, giddily spinning her in the air because she was as light as a feather. He relents to her demand a moment later, lightly setting her on the ground.

It's quiet and they're swallowed in the silence, but it's not at all icy, instead it's warm and content.

He's the first one to talk. "Asami, I've been asked to come home to the Fire Nation."

Her gaze hardens, knowing her short fairytale was bound to end soon. A biting sensation tempts her to grab a fistful of sand and throw it at his face because.. How dare he, dropping this revelation as if it's common news right in front of her?

He was going to abandon her, just because he could. He's a prince, soon to be Fire lord for sure since he's appointed to live back at the palace. He's going to forget her, and the world is cruel to never let her do the same and she'll put up another finger to count her heartbreaks.

Asami fought back her desires, despite slowly turning into a dynamite of rage, and scowled when she saw that he was completely emotionless, even eager. It makes her blood boil. "This is the part where you say 'it's been fun' right?"

He hears the tears in her voice, and grasps at her wrist to hold her in place. He can read the signs, been there too many times at the end of a chase, having something to slip past his fingers because he was one step behind.

"Please calm down, Asami," he tries to tell her, but the girl is struggling. She doesn't meet his eyes until his fingers lifted her chin delicately. Tears had pooled in her jade orbs, and Asami feels trapped, embarrassed to her skin because she'd been so fragile in front of him. The least she could do is to not let him get away with seeing her cry.

"I can never leave you," he admits, stroking her locks which previously obscured the sides of her face like a waterfall.

Seeing that she was taking his his message as a full-on mockery, Iroh knew he had to get over his nervousness and just come clean with it. He'd been ecstatic to get her with him alone, someplace intimate so that he could share this. Asami looked as if she was pricked by needles, about to lash out and call him bullshit.

"Asami," he asks her to focus on him, and she does begrudgingly. "What I'm trying to say out of all this is..."

She's waited too long. She could practically hear the lies coming. "_It's been great, not just fun, it was wonderful. And this meant something for me, I'll never forget it." And in the distant future she'll be hearing news of his coronation, impending engagement, and the soon to be crowned Fire Lady. And she'll be nothing more than a memory destined to fade away. _

She's completely fooled instead, as his next words proved her entirely wrong. _  
_

His hands are on her shoulders as if reassuring 'it's going to be fine' while it's blatantly rude to her, and she's prepared to break down but he stops her in a heartbeat. "Will you please come back with me?"

It's a voiceless, yet clear answer when she tackles him down to the sand and their lips collide.


	7. Foreign

**_A/N: Finding Fire Nation names is a piece of work. I spent a long time in deciding the bunch I picked out, it has to match the requirement of harsh consonants, take up certain vowels such as A,U,O, it's meaning and place of origin. But all things considered, I'm quite pleased with the references I discovered. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please review! Thank you :)  
_**

* * *

As they walked down the harbor plank, Iroh peeked at the servants lined behind him when the opportunity lets him because it's amusing to see them struggle with Asami's load.

True, he half expected her to over pack since she's a woman of high caliber and she's warned him she'd probably do such a thing since she can't help it. Yet, with the image right in front, scratch that- behind him, he can't help to be entertained with the reality.

Another upside to her habit was the fact that it somewhat ensured, intercepted the thought that she'd be staying longer, even maybe develop an attachment to his home. He'd like that very much.

Asami had walked further than him, before stopping short examining the view. It was a rather shocking revelation when she told him, during their first nights on their voyage, that she had never set foot on the Fire Nation. Not even on a vacation, a short day trip, or even on an old fashioned sailing journey.

He practically gaped at her confession because he was well aware (creepily since he's bothered to investigate so deep) that her lineage could be traced back to the very first Fire Nation colonists.

Her blood rooted almost as deep as his, he was a part of the royal family and she came from the earliest families of his nation. It was rather ironic that she never stepped on her own country's soil on flesh, but it proved to be an inspiring sight, instigating her inner nationality.

"It's so beautiful," she remarked, twisting back to meet the prince. He guided her to fall in step with him, and a carriage pulled by a a pair of black stallions parked in front of them, wheels rolling to a stop at the coach's command.

The fire bender gets the door for her, never minding whether passersby may put two-on-two together because he was purposely fawning over this new comer lady who's still dressed in Republic City fashions.

Seated by each other, he feels the familiar weight of her head resting timidly on his shoulder. He slings an arm around her, pulling them closer together so that she doesn't need to be unsure of expressing affections.

"I should've come here a long time ago," she mutters, slightly envious while stealing glances through the windows along their trip to the palace. Sun light streamed into the lands without restrain, authentic pathways were decorated with banners and unlit lanterns while true citizens mingle in the day, completely different as it was not the mismatched, clashing diversity thrown together back in her town.

Here it's harmonious, without force, without struggle.

He plays with her hair, one of her most alluring attributes, almost in a fantasy. "Well, if you came here before that means-," she buries herself in his enticing low voice. "You would've never met me," he insinuated, briefly spanning to his understanding that he already liked her so much just for the sole idea of who she is.

The fearless, audacious, yet the troubled, imperfect human she is. It pushed him to be at odds, why didn't he come across this wonderful girl sooner, he would've courted her without complaints.

But then again, if that was the case, he might've lost interest and played her with all that suave nonsense. She might pose to be just another pretty face, if she lived a whole different life, here in his country without the pain and hurt.

So when she murmurs a soft and thoughtful 'I know', he lets himself slip back, worries drowned back to the blue sea they left farther and farther behind. Because there they are, in the present that's meant to be.

* * *

They're waiting for his mother, and the sudden anxiety finally consumes her as she can barely stop her fingers from curling and uncurling on her lap. Iroh is there, next to her, looking gallant on the plush red dining chair, while she felt so small in contrast.

But underneath the cover of the rectangular granite table, his hand makes its way to hold hers, stopping the tiny vibrations, aiding her to be still.

They've learned ways to communicate so differently, a simple touch, a soft look meant answers and silent serenades. _It's alright. Fire Lady, not an angry spirit. She won't bite. _

Cue, she'd give him an adorably condescending glare. _Easy for you to say, oh, mighty Prince.  
_

But she'll let him tangle their fingers together, comfort seeping through the skin of his palm, and she's reminded that she doesn't need to be anybody else but herself.

A middle aged, yet dauntingly elegant woman dressed in deep red robes strolled into the hall. Her greying hair is still thick, the top layer pulled into a top knot where her pronged crown rests. She embodied true Fire Nation, her eye color a perfect match to her son.

Said son and his house guest promptly stood, to not undermine the appropriate respect required.

"It's so good to see you home, son," the nation ruler morphs into a gentle mother, and Asami can't help to smile as she reaches out to embrace the younger lad.

"I'm very happy to see you are well, mother," Iroh isn't shy to hide his familial concern, automatically wrapping his mother in a hug.

"Like wise," they shortly parted and the female royal makes her way to the nervous heiress. "And who are you, my dear? My boy did not inform me of bringing such a lovely guest," Asami is too transfixed on her fidgeting to hear the prince's embarrassed whine because his mother just foreshadows so petulantly at everything.

"When Iroh was sixteen, a woman was like rat poison to him. I have no idea he could walk backwards from the ballroom to his quarters," the general defused the urge to face palm at this. He gets it, he was unapproachable back then, even if he wasn't, he'd be doing his tricks to woo and shoo the girl minutes later.

Calming down, the Sato girl nods politely, "I'm Asami, your highness." The Fire Lady looks pleased, before ushering her two young company to sit. Her grin widens when she realizes the relatively short distance they let to come by their positions.

"Why there is no need for that, when you stay at the palace, you are welcomed as a part of our _family_," Iroh looks only half relieved at the choice of words, but accepts it gratefully nonetheless. He moves to raise the champagne goblet into his lips, sipping a small amount, before letting out a familiar exasperated laugh, "Mother? Really? Cognac at this time of day?"

Disregarding the non existent formality of their small banquet, Asami cracks up quietly when the defensive insult was thrown to the prince's direction. "It's better than tea, I swear Iroh, we have more kettles and tea cups than plates in the kitchen!"

She'd find that believable, even in the United Forces ship's cafeteria, they'd always have more than enough of those. Forgetting herself or maybe in an attempt to get loose since she was in between an actually normal, warm conversation between mother and son, Asami gulps down the contents of the lithe glass. The harsh trademark burning and bitter taste of alcohol is abnormally delightful. "I like it," she blurted out the comment, to be shunned at the end of Iroh's hilarious look of fake hurt.

"Wonderful," his mother chirped, and Asami is shown just how kind and generous even the most imposing people could be. "Thank you so much for the hospitality-"

The older woman interrupted her with a cause, having predicted she'd say some term of sovereignty to clear out that she was a mere subordinate. Not that she does not approve of her flawless etiquette but it's just not very healthy.

"Young lady, please, just call me Zahra, without the Fire Lady or Lady or even Fire Lord. It makes me feel like a stranger to my own house," the golden eyed woman elaborated shortly after. "I remembered giving Reza a silent treatment when he couldn't call me just by my name during our anniversary.."

"Speaking of father, where is he?" Iroh questioned, before plopping a spoonful of original Fire Nation cuisine into his mouth.

"He's somewhere in the study, must be grueling with those old scrolls," Zahra sounds tired at this before fiddling with her chopsticks through thin yet firm fingers. "I can't believe he insisted on learning the sages history just because those aristocrats from last summer's soiree showed him up on that spiritual talk," she complained, pouting slightly.

"Come on, mother. Don't be upset, you know how he is. He's just trying to look knowledgeable standing next to you," Iroh consoled. Asami could take a perspective in Prince Reza's position, being a husband who needs to live up to public expectations, he could just not care and be average, but it's Fire Nation signature to be too prideful to let mediocrity exist.

"Alright, I'll give it some time," the Fire Lady sighed, "But if this persists up to next week, I will lock him in that room," she threatens casually, and the most powerful woman in the nation is just the same as any other agitated wife. "Father always said that's what mother did when he works too late in his office," Asami noted that the royal was talking about her parents, and Iroh's grandparents, the famed former Fire Lord Zuko and the late Fire Lady Mai.

"I have a spare key," Iroh whispers lightly to the heiress' listening ear, hinting that he's been his father's helper to escape Zahra's _penalties_.

They resume to a lively brunch, filled with tales, friendly banters and awful puns (apparently Zahra inherited her father's humor, which thankfully was not passed down onto her son) and it feels all brand new to Asami, but yes, she could get use to this.

After all, home is where the heart is.


	8. Summer

_**A/N:** **Good gracious, finally got this done. It's been awhile, but I hope you guys did not lose interest in this story. Please take the time to leave a few words, I would appreciate it. A lot. Without further ado, enjoy! **_

* * *

The setting sun shone on their bodies, as the two silhouette strode together by the corners of the calm shore. Ember Island had been vacated just several years ago, since most nobles whom formerly resided in the tropical paradise have transitioned to the main land due to many immigrants moving to the United Republic of Nations.

It was a policy coursed by Fire Lord Zuko, just after building the large continent with Avatar Aang. He had set the rules to keep unity a strength of his country, not wanting to have scattered people since this could create a diversion like the good amount of Fire Nation blood who were lost to the Earth Kingdom areas during his father's war.

High quality country men these days who are capable assets (not that they'd need such dangerous methods since they're at peace) is a hard spawn, let alone the rarity of fire benders true at heart for their country.

No one minded the law since Zuko's reign record had actually surpassed Ozai's accomplishments in more down-to-earth segments such as the middle class economy, cultures perseverance and standardized education.

He had even changed all the children's history textbooks manual, replacing those hideous, fooling lies of the loss of the Air Nomad military, spreading out the clear truth of all the faults his own country made, essentially his own as well. It grew to help the people achieve the correct sense of justice, as well as serving the right amount of liberty.

The holiday island had become more of an exclusive spot rather than the crazy hectic place, having loud teenagers as abundant as air. Iroh loved it. For generations the royal family had a rather large estate (though modest if compared to the palace) for vacations.

Having been amazed at the capital, after they sailed across the archipelago, Asami was floored. However she was slightly confused with the prince's intentions.

They had been in his home, and the heiress had thought it was a solid base on their relationship, but now, he's brought her here. It was just the two of them. Not even a servant or anyone because Iroh had specifically compromised their privacy.

A part of her is worried. Was he trying to say something? Maybe tell her she's not suited to the new life and that she should just go back to her old one.

"I'd like to think the only reason you've whisked us away here is because you're desperate to get out of those stuffy armors," she sighs, trying to sound neutral, tracing her bare feet through the wet sand.

Iroh walked just a feet beside her, closer to the water in just beach shorts which provided a spectacular view of his torso. He grabs her hand, pulling the girl to a stop. "You're right actually, but there's more," he says, and the pessimistic thoughts from the young woman dissipated with his gentle tone.

He was both pleased and petrified.

"What is it?" She stretches her neck, letting long locks of hair to drape backwards from her shoulder and it hits him. She was dressed differently, in warm clothing, revealing her pale slender arms. It was a very nice change. Her red summer dress was loose by the skirt, moving at the slightest breeze.

With the ocean and horizon behind her, she looked absolutely breath taking.

Both Reza and Zahra also had an instant liking to girl.

The girl was infectious, with her elegant beauty and manners. Further more she seemed to be a mature young woman, having high tastes like a true Fire Nation upper class men, yet not having the irritable mood that personifies most of their people.

He's meant to get them together, just the two of them without the royals and the maids, and those labyrinth like halls of the castle because he doesn't want her to get lost in the pressure. He doesn't want her to say yes just because she's terrified of disappointing the Fire Lady, his mother who had gone measures to bond with the girl.

Reza had taken a different, albeit an even more intellectual route by conversing in the democracy and technological progress of Republic City. Iroh could tell Asami had been a little less comfortable than she was with his mother, but in the end Reza did not press towards anything remotely specific about her father's business history that the girl became at ease with herself.

He's still her most relaxing and favorite time of day. Whenever he's done with the meetings and United Forces documents, he finds the time to find her in her chambers and they'd just take a long walk. To the green gardens, feeding those little turtle ducks, and just breathing the wonderful atmosphere of the small botany his great-great uncle built in the eastern wing.

"Do you like it here?" He's referring to the Fire Nation, not just the capital, his palace or the island. She nods automatically, still mute because it was his role to speak.

"When I asked you to come with me, we haven't exactly discussed the terms of your stay, and I was wondering," he looks at the shy smile she has and finds his confidence. "How would you consider living here?"

It's serious, because he really wants her to stay. He needs an anchor to tie her down, because she's a free spirited person, having her own desires and will, and just what if she's already bored and tired of his land?

Asami is perplexed, at his generosity. They were budding onwards something she'd hope to be akin to lovers, because her heart always flutters when their skin touch and it always feels empty when he's not with her.

"I'd like that very much," she replied truthfully, letting out a relieved breath.

"Thank you," he murmurs, bowing into their joined hands, exhaling a chilling warmth.

* * *

The fire place is lit quickly with his fire bending, providing the comforting heat as the cold evening arrives. He's seated himself on the matted tiled wood, legs extended.

He's smiling softly, recalling how he spent their afternoon. Her melodious laughter rings in his ears, a sound he'd like to hear again and again if he could.

He started their little water war, splashing her with gusto because she was just asking for it when she teases him for being a terrible Pai Sho player since he lost against his mother that one time she invited her to a game night after dinner.

She puts up a pretty good front, despite not being accustomed to the land since she's more comfortable with the equal, unchanging depths of her mansion's pool.

In the end however, Iroh played to his advantage (which was more like cheating to Asami) using his bending to create a cover of steam when she throws at him. He circles her then, lifting her by the back of her knees and shoulders like a little child.

She wailed in surprise before thrashing around to be put down, but his arms were stronger that he managed to drag them to waist depth and dumped her right there.

He's never had the opportunity to do these kinds of things, never having that kind of senseless, childish fun since so long. He spots a particularly glinting ornament by the small shelf on the wall, and stands up to grab it.

He returns to his domain, blowing whatever dust that lingered on the item, an old _xiao_ before getting it to work. He positions the vertical flute accordingly before testing out the notes.

After finding the right string of notes to play by, he regulated his breath, the tune becoming stable and light. Footsteps approach him, and another body plopped down just next to him.

He glances at her amused face, while he makes a slight effort to get out the longer end note. He ends the music, placing the instrument down lightly.

"You like that song?" She inquired.

"Not really," he replies sheepishly before understanding he had been out of character. "On my earlier days on the boat, my men decided to have the music channel whenever we don't have to listen to any broadcasts on the radio," his explanation was quite amusing, apparently sailors no longer live up to the supposedly hard core image. Where had the pirates gone by the way?

"It's practically played every night in the city," she tells him, jaw slack, suddenly remembering she hasn't heard that song in ages ever since she's went with him.

She stole his attention then, as she naturally pressed deeper into his chest. Her hair is still a bit damp from the shower, but it would soon dry. They stare and listen to the tiny cackling sound of the pit.

Asami picks out the non existent lint on her shirt-, his shirt actually since he's told her she's allowed to dress herself in anything she finds in the bedrooms. It was a loose thing that hung over her slim form, granted it was from when he was younger, and a little less muscular but he was still almost twice as her in terms of body volume.

He chuckles, instead of looking ridiculous, it looked like the perfect fit on her. Like a completed puzzle. Maybe he was biased, because technically she was wearing something he had and it just felt right.

"Lost My Heart In Republic City," she mumbles. "That's the title."

Iroh had not initially bother to know the song's name, but having her tell him just now, it felt almost symbolic. Because he did in fact lost his heart there, when he met her. He's silent at this.

She leans upwards, eyes twinkling and determined, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he insists, and yes, his heart really belonged to her. As he lowered down to close their distance, he lets the fire dim then die to sink into darkness.


	9. Refusal

**_A/N: My gift for Mako who still deserves a wee bit more of bashing since he's been a misleading jerk half the time. Though I applaud his crowning moment of awesome; shooting lightning while being blood bent at and by Amon (that takes some serious skill!) but I won't resist this erm, closure. Haha. So please do me the favor of sharing your thoughts? I'd be thrilled._**

* * *

The two sat across each other in the vintage ensemble in the second floor private patio seats of the bar. They rooted the spot for privacy, the only sound reaching them was the dulled out jazz number that was playing indoors.

The establishment wasn't even packed, and they both prefer it that way. Quiet and without any possible disturbances.

Reservations had been tricky, but no one could simply say no to Asami Sato.

The heiress gracefully sipped her cocktail, letting the buzz warm her insides because it was bordering on the start of winter and she envied the man in front of her simply because he was a walking furnace.

"I don't get how much compassion does she think he needs.. He got his bending back for all I care, so it's enough," the former pro bender rambled, running a frustrated hand over his unruly hair.

Asami stifled a small laugh, despite how outrageous the act was. She was stopping by the city to grab some of her stuff since she decided to prolong her stay at the palace. Additionally she had specifically desired to pick up some of her thinner nightgowns because damn, she'd bathe in her sweat during those summer peak nights.

Not to mention, surely Iroh would appreciate her lighter clothing during their recent late night tea and chatting sessions. Though short lived and spontaneous, she cherished their meetings in the small lounge on their quarter's level because that was the best way to see him whenever his busy day robbed her chance of doing so.

She had packed them up earlier, ready for transport since she'd be catching a ferry to the capital tonight.

This was an unplanned stop, but still she had already imagined a similar situation since it wasn't so uncanny. Mako had been exchanging letters with her, just like Bolin and Korra but the fire bender's had been increasing in rations lately.

He was stressed, on the brink of his temper, that she could tell.

Though his immaculately written messages implied other wise, in person, there was no way to doubt the blistering spark of raw anger he's lit in his soul.

The fiery emotion wasn't directed at her and in fact, she pieced into all this because she was his only listening ear.

It would be too complicated to reveal his frustrations with Bolin, because surely the earth bender would have mixed feelings in consulting his older brother's troubles. And there was no way he could talk this out with Korra, because the avatar was the center of it all, yet again.

The Sato girl had promised herself, that despite their touchy past, Mako would always remain her friend and as such, she should always be ready to help him in whatever way possible.

So that led to the present, how the young man had requested her company, in the flesh because he's grown tired of scrawling his opinions instead of voicing them gruffly since he can't hold it in anymore.

The non bender relented, having the time to spare. After all, it won't do her any harm to catch up with a chagrined fellow.

"I know what he's trying to do, and she won't believe me," he fussed, so perturbed that it provoked him to wrinkle his trousers with the one hand on his lap.

"Don't get so worked up over it," she responded, trying her best to alleviate his aggravation. "It's just Tahno, who cares whether he's a water bender again, he's still a cheating snake," she pointed out.

Mako doesn't seemed convinced. "I know, but it just unsettles me. I mean Korra gets so sympathetic and guilty that somehow she just-" he inhales sharply at this, because he doesn't know how to let this out politely so she takes over, quipping at just the right moment.

"Can't say no?" She gives him a lopsided smile, because they both understand the current incarnation of the master of four elements like the back of their hand.

He's figured out the intricate riddle that is Korra because he yearned for her.

And she... She studied the water tribe native because she's trying to learn where did she got it wrong when she had been pining over him.

Call it a silly girl's jealousy and paranoia. But to Asami, it was effective self evaluation.

"Exactly," he exclaims, throwing a hand up at zeal, because the girl was spot on. "It just doesn't make sense, she makes so much time for him, and when I told her it wasn't right she just blasted me off because I was being unjust!"

He's telling her this as if it's unbelievable which it wasn't given his rather anarchistic and vague reason. That's always been him, and she holds back the urge to scoff mockingly.

_New girl, same old attitude._

"You won't get through her that way!" If the small circular table in between them had not been present, she would've reach across and smack him, because boy, he was such a wimp.

"Tell her you're jealous, tell her you're madly into her that you want her all to yourself," it was a long way they had come, because she was now his motivator at making things right between him and the girl he's left her for. "In fact, you need to sound clingy, not the other way around! I mean she won't feel your concern if all you're doing is slapping her for being _inappropriate_!" _  
_

Asami made air quotes because probably, Korra and Tahno were just remaining a close friendship bond just like the innocent attachment the fire bender and herself dropped into.

Given the avatar's similarity to the Wolf Bat in terms of experience, maybe what they had in common just made them click. And it's not good to turn away sincere coalition.

She's also seen the silver eyed man's shocking progress in terms of character. Despite having his bending back, with Korra's influence he did not return to his rather pompous and conceited self. In fact his trauma, combined with the caring treatment the avatar gave made a changed man out of him.

"Hey," she covered the hard fist resting on the table within her gloved one and squeezed reassuringly.

His grumbles subsided, and gold eyes stopped short to meet her promising ones. "It's gonna be okay."

He nods, agreeing with her claims that it was just a state, a phase the multi bender would move onward from. She wouldn't abandon him, she wouldn't be heartless.

But she just drives him away so bad, to the point of insanity, unable to dwindle to a controllable fervor. She's not supposed to stray away from him, he was the one who kept her safe for crying out loud.

Asami was different. Easy on the eyes had been the first thing that popped into his mind at first but now... She was in fact easier on every route. She wasn't a bull headed, ten tons of rebellion that Korra proved to be.

And the raven haired girl was a savory. A rose without the thorns the avatar seemed to never stop pricking him with.

After covering their tab, Asami slung her purse over her shoulder and stood expectantly. Mako shifted his foot, before joining her.

He gets the door for her, and there's a few meters of carpeted room before the walk down the stairs. The lamp is just above their heads, and even from behind, her dark curls already gave any onlookers the impression that she was as beautiful as a flower in the bloom.

"Thank you," he calls for her, making the girl spin on her heels and smile in return to his grateful one. "Of course."

The look in his eyes is serene yet unreadable, that she's frozen to her spot when he advances. Like a deer caught in the headlights, she was immobilized and trapped. The moment the eighteen year old's wine scented lips came upon hers, her body registered the much needed mobility before her mind did.

Neglecting his heavier weight, she had shoved him back harshly. Gaining stability, he recovered to face the visibly shaken lady with much regret. "I'm so-"

She cuts him off, her voice a painful croak. "Sorry?"

"What the hell, Mako?" It's a low screech, and she's entitled to punch him in the face or something for what he's done but she doesn't and the guilt dwells like bricks being thrown at him. "You're _crazy_!"

The way she said it was the complete opposite on how he'd always dote on Korra with those words. In his context, it had been a term of endearment to make her feel exceptional. In hers, it was an audible display of panic because she just couldn't understand how he stooped to be so demented.

"We can fix this, I-" Apparently he stripped of conversation, because she's getting defensive and he kind of deserves it.

"There's nothing to fix!" She pants, face red and heaving as if she's run a mile. "We were already over, I moved on-"

"To some spoiled prince!" He countered back, because he was sick of not battling fire with fire.

"He's better than you think. He cares for me!" She was disgusted by his pitiful view of her choices, as if blinded, alas she emphasized her argument by gritting her pearl white teeth fiercely.

He bites his lip, drawing blood, and snaps. "Well you're just trying to take shortcuts since riding away on his horse means happily ever after!" He grins wickedly at this because at a perspective, the heiress was in fact living her dream to be a princess in this rushed fairytale.

His words come back to bite him, as Asami gave him a venomous glare. "You're not doing any different," she stated icily and the tear slips down her left eye. "I gave up on you after you chose Korra, and I'm not blaming you because it's your choice."

She's not scolding him, but she's going to vent out because this betrayal, it was just too much.

"You've already chosen without even telling me and I backed off," she spat out. "I thought we can be friends," she chokes in bitter disbelief, never ever wanting to fall to optimism again because it's like walking on a wire without a safety net.

"But each time you're feeling it's difficult with Korra, you turn back. To me," she places a hand over her thumping chest as if stabbed. "We set a line, that we'd care about each other even when we're with other people, but I guess you don't care enough about me."

He ponders at her, and feels like the ultimate jerk in all history because he's taken hits at her just from his own selfishness. What was he kidding? He kissed her at a moment of weakness, because she was there and he was just lonely and lustful. He's already given her so much vulnerability and he's just plagued her even more.

She's frowning and smiling at the same time, and it chills him to the bone.

"You can't treat Korra like this," it amazes him how she bustles herself to the well being of the girl he's cheated on her upon, just from the well stemmed concern for a friend. "You're better, you can change," she can't bring herself to touch him, even if it was just a palm on his beating heart, because hers feel so broken right now.

She spared one last glance at the still stunned fire bender.

"I know you can," with that she bolted, ignoring his calls for forgiveness as she sped down the stairs and out into the open cold where the first tender flakes of the season fell. She ran as far as her legs could carry her, each spilled tear becoming one with the snow.

He doesn't have it in him to race after her.


	10. Shield

**_A/N: Whoosh, finally updating! It's been a while and I am sorry for the wait. You can set the mood in this one, and some of the recent chapters with Matthew West's 'Broken Girl', to me it feels like the perfect IrohAsamiMako theme. I'm hoping you guys enjoy this bit, so I'll leave you to it. R&R please!_**

* * *

Stiff hands folded the garment with methodical and accurate movements. She'd gotten back to the palace by night fall last night and missed supper (not that she'd wanted to attend since she'd been a wreck) and taken the solitude for the chance of slumber.

Granted she's used to sleeping about five hours a day with the revolution and even before when she took it upon herself to modify the latest designs of the now disbanded Future Industries but somehow she feels horribly drained, like a wilted plant.

Having stalled her usual routine of unpacking then, she considers this choice to be a life saver since she just can't bring herself to join in for breakfast, or brunch according to the time on the old fashioned clock posted on the upper wall.

She's cleaned herself quite nicely, her face now it's own shade of porcelain instead of the blotchy red mess it had been last night. Asami's smoothing out the top of the tidy pile of fabric in the wardrobe when her door creaks open and he comes in.

"Good morning," Iroh smiles warmly at her from the entrance, and though it's the third time (first had been when he gave her the lavish quarters and second was just the morning after when he checked in on her) he's ever stood in her room for a good while as she occupies it, the sight of his form near her still feels new.

"Morning," she spares him the necessary eye contact as she pulls the cabinet's sliding door to close. She's surprised when it turns out that he's bothered to bring a tray of light pastry, dried fruits and tea. It was thoughtful since she hasn't eaten one bit after the alcohol consumption yesterday.

The guise was a shocking one for anyone who doesn't understand their attachment given he's a prince and she's his guest, and the servants would certainly murmur past these halls if he's been seen with the act of actually _serving a commoner_. It would look so jumbled, and if there were nosy cameras and investigators here, this would be the hot topic.

He settles the wooden plank on top of her vacant dresser and handles the hot kettle with his palms, not discomforted one bit.

The general's learned to augment fire for purposes other than combat, and revising drinks temperature was one of the technique's practical use. He pours the tea into the two cups then, only a mild amount of steam drifting from the vapor, not enough to fog up her vanity which was what he tried to prevent.

He steals a glance at the former city girl, and catches her fingers fiddling shakily, _and was that shivering?_

He instantly leaves the station and sits down next to her on the bed, mattress gnawing slightly at the input of his weight. "What happened?" His amber eyes intensified._  
_

Her quirks, at least that's what he called them, had faded quite a while ago ever since she's been comfortable with him. No more toe tapping, curled fists that her nails inflict damages, no more unsteady and uncertain gazes.

It was supposed to be gone. All gone.

Her voice is unnaturally monotonous, it's like hearing a monograph, not a motivational one at that, and he inwardly flinched. "You remember the letters I got from my friends?"

"Of course I do," he lays his hand on top of hers, and it's cold, but that's why his belongs right there. The Sato heir had been open about what remains of her social connections to the bending brothers and the avatar. He's grateful that she opts to share with him, either plainly giving him a few patches of paper to read (and he enjoyed the humorous or spunky tales Bolin and Korra often scribbled) or reading them to him herself during their time alone together.

It gave him a sense of peace because she trusted him that much.

He's told her it's healthy to keep in touch with her pals because they're the last bit of her past that she can consider as the better keepsake. He also doesn't want her to abandon her entire life, the one she's lived her first eighteen years in, just to be with him.

"You know I would never cheat on you right?" Iroh's eyes widened in high surprise, because how on earth were these brash words slipping out of her mouth?

"What happened, Asami?" His grip becomes sturdier, because she's in a worse shape now, her entire body vibrating slightly.

She narrates the events coursing these last twenty four hours with much effort. Iroh listens through it all, respecting her statements.

He's aware that Mako had put himself in a committed relationship with Korra, as far as he can tell but more over he's confided to Asami about his problems.

At first he's thought the pro bender was completely insensitive to share those things with her since he's broken her heart in two to be at his current place, but now he was seeking advice? Tedious.

The heiress, though slightly afflicted, was ready to engross herself in aiding him because it was simply the right thing to do. They were still friends, after all. Or were they?

The demonic, harsh, royal blood part of him wanted his suspicions to be true, that the younger fire bender was an unspeakable and disgraceful person. But that would meant the lad had poured salt into her open wound, and he just couldn't bear with the cruel truth. Asami did not deserve this suffering coming upon her.

He stares closer at her, so hollow and holds a grimace when the lighting affirms the presence of her dried tear tracks. She must've broken down so hard that it was still recognizable even overnight.

He's aware of the former's pro bender apparent disgust of the Tahno fellow, an old scheming competitor who's strategically pursued the young avatar and how Asami had been playing the role of a supporting friend, to not let this small rock get him to tumble down.

She mentions how he's asked her to meet him for drinks to discuss his latest issue and how she's tried to console the young man, and that's the point she finds it too hard to speak.

Something must've went catastrophically wrong-

"He kissed me," she winces, falling apart before his eyes as she cannot hold her sob. Her throat still feels as if it was scratched raw, her vocal chords felt like they were set ablaze, and she's lost count of how many times she's wailed.

Masculine arms went around her, and she leans into the thick scent of musk, wanting to just breathe it in.

His jacket is soon damp, the water flow cascading from her lids penetrating through the fabric, staining it a darker shade. "I'm sorry," she's sniffling incoherently in his embrace and he's half amazed at how she can't see things through his view, how can she get it so blurred and hazy.

It hadn't been her fault.

"Asami, please I understand," he cooed, trying to prod at her so she'd look up and meet his eyes but the girl doesn't have any strength left to muster. "Don't blame this on yourself," he sighed, not wanting to have her so fragile in his arms, as if she was made of glass.

She fell still, and he thought she fell into that unresponsive state since she's exhausted herself but he's wrong. "I hate him so much," she squeaked. She's never one to tell him of her hatred, hell she's never been one to succumb to the negative emotion, but she's had enough.

She's envisioning a sinful reverie where she gets to climb up a hill, or a steep cliff, which ever works best and to just shout at the top of her lungs. _"I hate you! I hate you!"_

And somehow the man with the red scarf would hear her across the distance, and perceives the intended meaning just like the rest of the world will. _  
_

Her voice is rough, hoarse when she hissed, breathing still ragged, "What kind of person does _that_?"

"A lost one," the part of him that's still patient enough, that drives him to stay by her side and not hunt Mako down to possibly maim him answers. She looks at him, astounded at the response.

She bows her head into her hands, "And even from all of this, I meant nothing to him."

It's the sad reality that when he kissed her it had been out of a whim to make himself feel better whereas he had no motive to build a bridge between them, no intention of reconciling. She'll always be second best, always be the collateral damage.

There was never even a fraction of Mako that wanted to be together with her. He's played her like a game, and tossed her aside whenever there's better things to catch up on.

She was absolutely worthless.

At her voiced self belief, Iroh was momentarily caught in a spurn of bewilderment and outrage because she must not think of herself as something so low. His calloused hand fell to the base of her neck, desperately goading her to confront him.

His other hand grabs at the object inside of his trousers pocket, handing her the glistening cool gold. His hair was still a bit too short to be donned into the princely top knot and as such he's relished the opportunity to not wear the pronged headpiece because he hates feeling restrained for his image, always having to be so proper, so closed and reserved.

Her lips are parted, her eyes are unsteadily bright, as if not quite believing what he's gesturing at. He won't wear his crown, wanting to be on the same parallel as her. What he's insinuating by the act was rather staggering.

It meant that he's willing to take sacrifices, even if it meant giving up his future reign. He just wants her to be happy, anywhere, anyhow as long as it would forever please her.

They weren't kindred spirits or anything, but he's willing to bet his life that she belonged to him as much as he did to her.

"You mean _everything_ to me," he divulged as she clung tightly once more onto him, and he wished she won't ever doubt that even for a second.

He's wrapped around her like a blanket on a child, and the only thing they both want to utter but never had to was... _Don't let go._


	11. Landslide

**_A/N: Agni! It's been so long since I touched this, I feel horrible for not completing this sooner. To be honest I had a bump with this chapter, right after I got about up to the fifth hundred word, but halfway through, I got it! This is not unplanned, don't worry, honestly I had wanted to put what I did here somewhere along the story (jammed with the multitude of prompts and ideas I listed for this very, very expendable pairing - one of the many reasons I love it so much) and I think this is a good time to put it in. They're ready, I have faith in them. Why am I being so vague? You'll find out. _**

**_Thank you, and I mean thank you for the reviews you guys honored me with. I am touched. Please continue to leave your comments/thoughts/critiques, anything is very much appreciated! See you soon! :)_**

**_Random note: Recommended song to set the mood on this one, 'Hold My Heart' by Sara Bareilles.  
_**

* * *

The next time Asami returns to Republic City, having needed to take care of a few release papers for the last remaining buildings owned by Future Industries, Iroh made it his priority to tag along. Naturally she didn't mind, but a small part of her felt guilty for stealing him from his duties. Yet, the prince had unshakably demanded and it had been on his own want so no one could really stop him.

It wasn't so much as he needed to guard her though the protection he may provide does comfort him, it was more of the fact he didn't want to be apart from her. Just that simple idea.

It was a flattering notion really. Zahra and Reza gave their consent, after all the Fire Lady had already took charge for most of the ruling both military and government wise.

Iroh had given his mother a very nice off week prior, in which the female royal spent in nagging her husband for quality time. Reza gave in ultimately, unable to withstand the seduction. Fire Nation royals have a tendency to be erm... _physical_.

The younger prince shook his head unfathomably at this, even though his parents were clearly adults, they still tend to act like love hungry teenagers. Zahra, happier than she'd ever been even ushered both her son and acquaintance with most gusto since she's wanted the general to have a lady on his arm steadily.

Iroh relented as Asami prodded him gently to take the passenger seat of her Satomobile, having taken it out from her estate's garage as their means of transportation.

It was an amusing sight, a woman driving the roaring car like a madman (but she's good enough to get away with it) and a cringing man hanging by her side.

"Let's make a deal," he proposed after maintaining the more subtle facial expression, while speaking a little louder than his usual hushed tone because the wind was in their hair, as they rushed in high speed.

"What deal?" He could hear the happiness in her voice, and that was all that matter. She gave him a side way glance, tinted green eyes questioning.

"Let's teach each other something we can't do," he said, slightly surprising the girl. She narrows her eyes at the creativity and spontaneity, because that seldom presents itself to her.

"Teach me how to drive, and I'll teach you... equestrian riding," Iroh picked out. He bets she could enjoy in mentoring him in how to handle the wheel, and maybe after all the ruckus with Mako, they could have some fun.

"Horseback riding?" She curled her lip for a second before continuing and grinning ear to ear, "Sounds good! I never rode one ever since I turned eight.." Cars pretty much dominated the city by then, and wildlife became sort of an... antique.

"Great," the prince leaned back on his seat then, extending an arm to wrap across her back.

* * *

The sound of screaming deafened their ears, as both used their hands to dull the noise. The Wolf-bats were playing against the Buzzard Wasps, and the crowd gone wild even if it was just the preliminary rounds.

For the first time in her life, she stood by the commoners as she watched the show with the royal. It was a good change, she would dread to seat herself in the private level reserved for the Sato name.

Iroh had lost their bet. To the contrary it was a bit unfair to have a foreigner guess the outcome of a pro bending match against a Republican who's seen more matches than a winged lemur stealing fruits, but it was a fun game. On Asami's part at least.

One of the most memorable moments of the night was the fact that Iroh had hilariously tripped over the steps due to an overly excited fan positioned behind him. It was a hard thing to believe, with the man being as steady as a rock but well it just happened.

Thank Agni, he didn't earn anything more than a slight bruise on his left elbow.

By the time the running champs won the match, it took a good half an hour for the crowd to die down entirely, and at this time people began filling up the exit, to continue their Friday night plans.

Asami and Iroh wiggled through pressed bodies, smelling both extravagant and not so fresh odor of common folks to finally escape outdoors to the open space.

She's not really comfortable on going out into restaurants yet. Not Narook's and certainly not Kuang's. An image of a stylishly neaten up Mako flashed between her eyelids, and at a moment's notice it fleeted.

_Definitely not Kuang's.  
_

She's reminded that her ever so loyal butler, have already anticipated her return to the mansion since she's cooped herself a bit in the office this morning which she doesn't usually do anymore (which automatically translates that there was a chance of her staying overnight and not just for a day trip).

He must've at least purchased enough groceries for a single meal for two. That she is sure of.

So there they were. After a quiet yet comforting ride back (with half the speed from earlier), Iroh gladly pulls her chair out like a gentleman before seating himself in.

Her table wasn't as decorative, nor as large as the palace's granted it could fit eight people, and it's still too big anyways since there had only been three to begin with.

Then two, just her and her father. Or her and the pro bender.

Then one. On some cold lonely nights when her father had business to attend, or on the achingly painful meals she had alone on the first few nights after the war. Where she stabbed and stabbed with her fork and knife across the plate, eating just a bite or two before becoming too irked to even take a sip of water.

Sometimes she imagine their ghosts, for the ones dead or just a distance away. Cruel visions and dreams she has while wide awake.

She's imagined dining as three again, with both her parents, intact, safe and well with herself still a mere child with baby fat on her slightly swollen cheeks.

She's felt Mako's hot hand reaching across the table telling her how grateful he is of her. Of how she helped him in so many ways. On how he'd promise he'd repay his debt to her someday.

Hell she's even fantasized on a double date with Korra and Bolin tagging along the eldest brother.

But somehow, just the two of them, a prince slash general and heiress gone hidden, it felt right. She'd been hungry for companionship, for someone to be there, someone who'd never even _dare_ to think of leaving her.

She found just the right person.

* * *

"This is really, really good," Iroh said in between bites, sometimes still chewing something and Asami's completely charmed by the fact that he was comfortable enough to lose a bit of his manners in front of her.

"Glad you like it," she quipped taking a sip of the chicken broth across her spoon, before noting how different it was from Fire Nation culinary. "Not many Fire natives could appreciate the taste of Earth Kingdom food," she comments, somewhat delightfully surprised at his quirk.

The prince swallows a particularly large bite, before dabbing his lip with a napkin. "Are you kidding me? I've eaten nothing but the spiciest, peppered, throat destroying food in my first fifteen years of living. I think I would highly appreciate the different tastes of the world," Iroh explained rationally.

Asami thinks back and nods because yes, even the drinks, juices, and the never ever missed liquor have some sort of spice to it.

"Well not the whole world," the girl answers reminded of her less than fortunate dinner during the short celebration Master Katara had for her family, the avatar and her friends. The feast itself could feed the whole village, yet the elderly woman only needed three hours to make all of the dishes. She swore, the senior water bender could win Magic Cooking - a cooking contest Republic City usually run time to time, or run a one woman catering.

The general drinks the green apple juice, before setting the glass down, satisfied with the almost candy like taste he's rarely had.

She recites her story expressively. "Korra had me try these things called sea prunes back at the South Pole a while back. It was just _bluugh_," she's compelled to add a retching face to go along with the noise, because damn, she still has a very vivid, _moist_ recollection of the marine's crunchy yet grimy flesh crunched within her mouth.

Iroh tries to compose himself despite being presented with the funny look on her face, "I would've died to see that."

She shakes her head, still confused. "Korra had like three servings of those. And _Bolin_," she stopped, mortified, "had four."

He loses it, cackling in laughter, and Asami turns soft instantly, remembering the fact that this was one of the first few times she's had him completely blown radically into joy, when he's done so for her a thousand times.

Turning her pouts and frowns to giggles.

Turning her tears to smiles.

She plans to return the favor as many times as possible.

They fall into peaceful, quiet conversation. The air so light that she felt if she had gone with the decision to turn on the radio across the room before, she would've stood up and pulled him into a dance when Lost My Heart In Republic City blares precisely at nine.

But it's alright. Even more than just alright.

The phone atop the far wall's small desk across the hall rings, and she excuses herself quietly, leaving a still grinning Iroh to finish his drink.

She presses the phone to her ear once clicking the call acceptor button. "Hello, this is the Sato Residence. May I ask who am I speaking to?"

A woman's voice answers from the other line, half professional yet interestingly timid. "This is the Republic City Inner Health Conservation. And I presume, this is Ms. Asami Sato, if I'm correct?"

Her heart beats faster, as a mix of fear and hope lingers down her chest. "Yes, this is Asami. Hiroshi's daughter," she slips then, having been unwilling to stay in slow circles, "What's the matter? Has my father recovered? It's a miracle, I didn't imagine to receive news of progress so soon with the way the doctors described his condition-"

The upturned corner of her lips slowly falls when the nurse begrudgingly cuts her, "Ms. Sato," she addressed slowly, "I'm very sorry, I'm afraid I must tell you that-"

_"Daddy!" She leaps over the car door, having successfully done a test run on the model across the race track. She's fourteen,_ _hair in a messy ponytail, sweat glistening over her skin, smiling like on a sugar high nonetheless. _

_The spectacle wearing father races across to hug the girl, not letting her go out of his reach just yet. "Asami!" He bellowed. She didn't exactly have an approval for trying the latest muscle car prototype. "What did I tell you?! I didn't have the brakes fixed yet, you could've crashed!"  
_

_She was a non bender, just like him. Yet he still felt like she needed protection, despite how amazing of a fighter the trainer he hired for her physical tutelage told him.  
_

_Maybe he's biased because as each day passed, Asami looked even more and more like her mother. The picture of the three of them, before the tragedy rests in the golden pocket watch in his trousers. He's plagued by thoughts of losing his separate part of blood and flesh, just like he lost the better half of his heart.  
_

_With fire, and white flashes, and blood.  
_

_He's stern, half mad, yet half proud when one of his workers ran up to show him the stop watch of her field run time record which was another Future Industries product's best speed yet, and he sighs, rubbing two fingers on his greying sideburns.  
_

_"Come on, Dad! I know how to take care of myself, and please those guys," with a small hint of youthful cockiness she turns over for a quick look at his employees who in reality weren't better drivers than the young teen, "cannot whip it like I did."  
_

_Hiroshi gives in and graces her with a small smile. "Alright, alright." He hands her a small can of energy drink, which the girl took eagerly. "Let's get you inside."  
_

_They walk across the doors back to the main estate, and Hiroshi knows her rebellious practices might even come in handy someday. After all, she was his heir to a revolution.  
_

_It was another fantasy.__  
_

"Ms. Sato," the woman calls almost regretfully, and the heiress realized she hadn't been listening, once again reliving the uninvited yet meaningful past. "I'm so sorry, what did you say?" The nurse didn't want to repeat what she had to inform the young woman, saying it once was hard enough. But it had to be done._  
_

She hears Iroh calling her name distantly, she'd been away longer than she should, but her mind is elsewhere. So far away.

_"I love you, Asami." The middle aged man crouched by the side of her bed, and strokes her cheek as he bid her goodnight. Her eyes close, falling into sleep. _

_It won't ever happen. Not again. It will always be a fantasy._

She takes a deep, choking breath as the scarring words came, "Your father, he passed away."_  
_


	12. Torn

_**A/N: Dun, dun, dun! So we've entered the Hiroshi's death arc, I guess, which will be explored for a few chapters or so to not leave it just at that. But don't worry, we won't be dwelling on this for too long, since there's a whole lot more plot ground I still need to cover. It would help me so much if you guys took the time to leave a few words. Let me know what I'm doing good or not so good.. Constructive criticism can go a long way my friends! ;)**_

* * *

Iroh never wore so much black in his life. Some parts of his attire may be said color, but he's never clad himself in it from head to toe. He's used to wearing red, it was his nation's traditional color after all. He's worn gold, because he was of royalty, and he's even tolerated green whenever he has to visit the Earth Kingdom for gatherings and such.

Never black. Never the gloomy, dark as night, shadowy shade of color.

Proper mourning color in the Fire Nation was even its polar opposite, white. He's worn full white a few times. To his grandmother's funeral, great-great uncle's, and a few close friends of his family who unfortunately came of age.

Hiroshi hadn't been a true Fire Nation and as such the Sato household never followed the ritual of burning the deceased to scatter its ashes. Instead he'd stay a Republican, preferring to be buried in the earth to rot.

It had been his wishes, and Asami knew of it that she let his end be as such. There wasn't even an official funeral, no ceremony.. _nothing_. No one attended except a few doctors who formerly treated Hiroshi, his sole daughter and the Fire prince.

She didn't have any external relations as most of her uncles and aunts have been incognito for the past decade or so scattered around the world, having been given their life worth's portion of the industry's revenue. They could've died, or the more believable case was that they hated her father and they simply didn't care.

To secretly and irrationally wish for the bending brothers or the avatar's presence was a rather lost cause.

She could not bring herself to see Mako anytime soon, not with what's happened between them and her more recent dilemma of losing the only parent she had left. The avatar belonged to the world, not her love, or friend or family. She had her duties, and she's eternally bound to it.

This petty, depressing cause would have to be _forgotten_.

The girl is in a full black coat, without any bits of the customary burgundy or red. It was painful to see her unblinking form, staring at her father's grave stone as if it'd corrode into powder the minute she'd let her field of vision stray away from it.

She glances somberly at the intricately carved calligraphy of her father's full name, the year range of his mortal life and the rest of the characters written below that she recites deep in her heart, trying desperately to envision him like a portrait.

_Man of influence. _

_Loving husband and father. _

_May your soul rise and ascend._

"The last time I was here, I was a mess.." She started to admit things she's never let anyone know before and Iroh tries to examine her without much movement to be less obvious. "My dad held me, pulled up onto his jacket and I watched the casket lower down so _deep_," her voice cracks but she goes on anyways, "I knew my mother was there, I asked Hiroshi if she'd ever come back.."

At this she spins back to face him, "Then my dad just put me down on the ground, held my hand," unconsciously she tightens her gloved fist, "And he drove us both to an old shop for ice cream. He let me had three cones," she chuckles remembering the brain freeze she had to endure afterwards consuming the tasty treats.

"He told me to forget," she kneels to neaten the flowers she's set down earlier, a bouquet of peonies, touching it so gently that the petals still looks perfect as if they were just freshly picked. "We _never_ forget."

She's not shedding any tears, having already flooded her pillow and sheets last night as she slept, or pretended to on the side of her bed. She hadn't want him to leave, and neither did he so he was content with watching over her, as sad and guilty as he was because he gets to hold her each time she shivers underneath the covers.

_"It's going to be alright. It's going to be alright."_ _That was his lullaby. _

He's letting her stand in front, a few feet from his reach, because she needed this, and he resisted the urge to pull her close again and to convince her that it's going to get better, even to her now it was just empty words.

She's shutting off, like a burned out candle, and it hurts him like a gnawing knife but he needs to let her mend on her own. With his gentle hand, and nothing in resemblance of force.

Her father died three days ago, during his sleep to be exact at about half past ten and it clenches Asami's throat as she remembers exactly where and what she was doing. On a ferry sharing a luxurious cabin with her prince, having romance and happiness like it was rain from the sky.

_A spoiled, careless brat. That's what I am._

His doctor claimed that Hiroshi hadn't been initiating himself to any sort of commitment, he's lost all hope, and continued on to live alike to an unresponsive man. He neglected medicines, training programs, and any sort of counseling offered. He wasn't mute, having still talked basic things from time to time, but never in his daughter's presence.

She'd only visited him once, and that time he had been pretending to rest, and she didn't mind as much as it triggered her because she'd rather have silence than hateful screams.

Oh, how she'd wish for his hateful screams right now instead.

The voice in her head is battling the truth, that her father's dead, that he's suspended underground, just below her feet, that he'd be nothing more than bones and barren flesh after she leaves the place.

She wanted to have him back. Even when he'd still stand to his beliefs, the ones she fled from. Because it was better than having no one left.

_Tell me I'm wrong.. Tell me I'm supposed to save you.. Tell me I'm supposed to hate benders.. Tell me I have to kill them! Tell me anything! Just speak! Just breathe! Just breathe.. Please.._

Asami lingers in her spot, and though the wind is harsh and the sky is an awful shade of bitter gray, she doesn't move. A single tear slips through her eye, and no one wipes it away.

* * *

They're taking a cab, she's not in the mood to drive and it's rather disturbing since it was the thing she loves doing most, ranking just below kissing him, but Iroh accepts it nonetheless. He doesn't want her to do anything stupid, anything brash, anything she'd regret in the long run just because of this one rough patch.

He's waving to an approaching taxi, the all too bright shade of yellow slightly irritating him. It was then Asami felt a hand other than his falling onto her shoulder, demanding attention.

Both of them turned to see the chief of police, a serious but sympathetic look etched on her mature face.

"Asami, it turns out that there's more to your father's death," Lin explained. The Sato girl hadn't asked for an investigation for her father's death, believing it would lead to nothing more than unnecessary disappointment. But it had been standard protocol, and the metal bender had never intended to step on the stressed girl's toes, even going so far as promising it would not lead to any of her involvement if she didn't give consent.

Asami let the Beifong do her work, not wanting to disrespect her authority. She assumed she would not need to hear any kind of confirmation, let along results of the project since death was just death. A common, irreversible occurrence that cannot be avoided.

"A day or two before Hiroshi passed, the IHC did their monthly health test. We overlooked his tests and found traces of methanol in his bloodstream. The hospital didn't have any food they fed containing it, and only Future Industries have car models with engines fueled by methanol."

The heiress felt her mood go worse if that was even possible before the metal suited woman continued. "Only one person left him treats, Rei Shun, one of your company's rookie test drivers though senior engineering consultant. He gave your father the poison periodically over his treatment to escape suspicion. Too bad he's working solo.

"We've had a trial yesterday morning, and Shun put up a good case. I thought we'd need some sort of tie breaker, get a diplomatic representative from some far away land who'd be trustworthy," the distaste is clear in her ever so flexible facial muscles as someone like that would be epically hard to come by.

The authority figure has laid down all the cons, and it's time to lighten the case and reveal the pros. "But Avatar Korra who from time to time filled Councilman Tarrlok's empty seat turned the tables around, even reciting humanity quotes I'm sure Tenzin had to torture her to understand," Lin smiles awkwardly at this before resuming her story once more, "Though it wasn't murder, his crime did tie in to assisted suicide so charges are being pressed."

Iroh seems to flare at this, golden eyes narrowing, because whoever Rei was, the guy better be given nasty consequences. The chief senses this, it was hard to miss the fire bender who was now ready to pounce like a wolf, or a dragon given what fits better. The gray haired woman seemed to resolve into acknowledging the royal's presence, addressing them both instead of just the raven haired girl.

"Relax. He's given life sentencing for the offense. He's never getting out of there until you," the earth bender shifts to regard the younger female, "call it quits on holding him detained."

Asami doesn't seem to brighten up at this, and Iroh spares her a worried glance, but it's almost predictable when her pupils tighten and she announces flatly, "I'm going to see him."


	13. Gambit

**_A/N: Lol, this came out faster than I thought. My fingers slipped. Remember the guy who Asami (plus Korra) raced against in 'The Aftermath'? Rei's meant to be that guy in my story, in case you were wondering if I created a full blown OC. I didn't. I just filled in some blanks to suit this. He seems to have a good potential as his own character. I can't get the dirty (not 'that' kind of dirty) looks he gave to Asami, and in that instant I thought that there should be more to it. So viola! This is how I wanted his unexplained background depth to be._**

**_Not much Iroh in this one, and I'm sorry for that, but he'll come up soon. Pinky swear. R&R please!_**

* * *

The office was dull, lifeless, exactly how a prisoner should be held back even when he or she conversed with a visitor. Asami had requested Iroh to let her do this on her own, and given how personal it was, the fire bender only nodded and obeyed to waiting by the front halls.

Her body is stiff from her rigid sitting posture on the chair, but she remains as so, not wanting to move so much as an inch.

The criminal is clad in tacky, pathetic orange, his dark hair unkempt, and she prints the image like a tattoo on her mind because there's a sick, twisted enjoyment she should draw from it but somehow it doesn't distract her from the clawing anger she felt.

She restrains herself from grabbing him by the handcuffs and slamming him over the table and onto the hard concrete walls to choke him and let the life slip away from his eyes as he suffocate by her hands.

"Why'd you do it?" Her voice was cold but the twenty-eight year-old man is sitting across her patiently, passively and she squirms harder. "I said why'd you do it?!"

The screech of her voice is loud enough to alert the two guards posted outside their door that one of them comes in, in case anything gets violent. Asami catches sight of them from the corner of her green orbs like a dagger slipping through foam, and clenches her teeth.

His brown eyes tiredly stares down her glare, and she's reminded of the times she's worked by his side and her father's. It had only been about professional respect. They never really liked each other, she was the rather opinionated daughter of his boss and he was the undermined employee who kept losing to her in the track.

He'd always act like a jerk who didn't care a damn in the world of what his employer's daughter think of him, and it was an endless cycle she'd fight back to with her sabotaging stunts.

There was one time when all that changed though, and their relationship got better somehow.

She'd been a foolish fifteen then, who wanted friends more than anything in the world (the irony was that she in fact _could_ have anything else she wanted), on one of her very own first nights out in the city with her school friends whom she had not realize to be a bad crowd despite her father's persistent warnings.

She'd been nurturing her skills of sneaking out of the house (luckily stealth was included in her self defense training) for her own personal gain despite being forbidden of doing such a thing, boldly taking one of the cars with her.

By the end of the night she got so boozed, one of the girls had slipped something she'd rather not know down her drink. The pack had abandoned her and she was left with a car and a curfew to chase.

She remembered feeling as if she was about to die, her first time heavily drunk, senses clouded and overwhelmed that she knew she could drop down on the side of the road anytime soon. She'd been in one of the more dangerous districts and surely a teenage girl of her status and basic appearance would attract late night thieves, crooks and worse, rapists.

Asami hid in the backseat of her car, parked in a tiny and easily missed alley (miraculously she still managed to position her car to such a place though it took up the last bit of her strength) which is strategic for a moment if she neglects the fact that she's a sitting turtle-duck.

She's curled up in the fetal position, shuddering every so often. Each resonating sound gave her a heart attack and only further worsened her headache. The final gift of her failing body was her last sense to dial a distress signal through the communicator set on the vehicle. All she needed to do was to pick someone to call, and that itself was a problem that got her even drowsier.

Her dad was out of the question. She completely disobeyed his orders, crossed whatever line they had set so carelessly on her part and who knows what he'll do if he sees her like this.

It left Rei. He'd been the only worker who had late shifts that night and she was more familiar with him than most of the others, though this sense of familiarity isn't exactly pleasant since he's blackmailed her a few times for a forfeit on their runs when he has dirt about her latest escapades.

About dawn, she opened her eyes to see that she'd been rescued, car being driven expertly by the usually arrogant and conniving young man. But she had the look on his face plastered like a memory from yesterday. She knew that look, memorized it, given it countless times to the people she cared about and could identify it on almost anyone, including him. It'd been genuine concern.

Through bleary eyes, she thought he was going to tell her dad the instant they're back in the mansion, why wouldn't he anyways?

He was the second illegitimate attention seeker of her father in her perspective.. Why wouldn't he want some light shed onto her misbehavior so that he'd get his rightful place for his better deeds?

She expected questions just for the satisfaction of witnessing her torment. But instead they drove over to a diner, he'd let her lean on his shoulder as he carried her to their booth and ordered them coffee and a hot meal.

He knows fully well of her mistake yet he doesn't take the advantage he clearly had at some point wanted to, and rather saw her for what she truly was.

Not the immature girl who keeps him in the dark all the time.

Not the unexpectedly killer driver who makes him lose to fall into humiliation.

But a normal human who has boundaries and weaknesses, and vulnerability despite how high she stands on the social ladder. There are people who want to bring her down, there are milestones she has to trip by.

Later on, when Hiroshi demands an explanation for his daughter's questionable whereabouts from her out of this world escort (he'd rubbed his fogged up glasses to make sure he wasn't seeing things), Rei tells him he _kidnapped_ her for a lesson of the finer points in street racing.

Hiroshi ends up believing the lie, not knowing what had transpired in reality. From that moment on, the two became friends (though the competitive streak never seemed to fade entirely) and Asami nudges her father to give him a promotion, not because she feels indebted but because it was worth it.

She saw him as a surrogate older brother, the one who keeps her in check, who tells her that her ego is some sort of time bomb, who still manages to tick her off horribly. And she admits she's glad for all of it. In turn, Rei continued to work for the Sato family, very pleased that betrayal never even came into mind.

Or so she thought.

"Exactly three people have access to the chemical components supply of Future Industries," she skipped the whole point of greetings, because it was unacceptable and gets right on it, listing figures, "Hiroshi, me," she breathes, "And you."

He shrugs, indifferent, and she wished he didn't have the capability to use the smug tone only the highest of nobility should have. "I'm not denying any of that, _princess_." He still bothered to use the old teasing names he's chosen for her. Though given the direction of her current relationship with the fire bending royal, it's safe to say he didn't mention the specific name just for sentimental value.

If his hands weren't bound, he'd be scratching his chin right now. "Though you should've known me well enough by now to know that I'm not the kind to shift my loyalty so easily."

"And I thought you cared about my family," she remarked crossly. "That you respected the Satos," she spat. "What kind of possible motive you'd have for this? I run the company now, and I've obliterated it, so why take it upon yourself to end a man without even the slimmest chance of healing?" The curiosity in her voice is undeniably sour, like an unexpected pinch.

Rei doesn't even need some sort of time rest or a brief pause before he answered. "I respected your father," he says this like it's the most average thing in the world, "And Hiroshi said if I honored him, I'd help him one last time."

"And now he's rotting in hell, thanks to you," she still looks beautiful even when the smile on her face is meant to be vengeful.

"He wants to see your mother," this earns a mocking scoff from the girl, before her eyes flashed, spiteful. "And what?! Leave his daughter?!"

_Seems like so._ The more fragile part of her whispers.

He tries to console her, gently but it does nothing else than bait her. "I know you have a complicated view of all this, but it's what he wanted."

"_Complicated _is an understatement," she insults his choice of words before going back in to shoot a bullet again, "You should remember blood's thicker than water."

The male non bender lets a bit of arrogance seep in, because there's really no harm to it. "Apparently that's not how it works in your family," he points out, smirking. "How long did you spend your life thinking the family business was everything that it seems?"

He feels bad that she _hated_ how innocent she had previously thought the ingredients of her wealth to be, never seeing her own father's motive until time pressured every little secret to be told.

_"I wanted to keep you out of this as long as I could. But now you know the truth, please, forgive me." He pleaded. "These people, these benders-," he's pointing at her allies like they're disgusting animals. "They took away your mother, the love of my life."_ _It's amazing how love transcends the widest separation of all, death. But it's also lethal, misguiding._

_"They ruined the world, but with Amon we can fix it and build a perfect world together. We can help people like us, everywhere!" She's looking on at him with hurt eyes, surely there was another path to closure. __"Join me, Asami."_ She takes the glove he offers her. To run. 

"You could've told me," she affirmed. _  
_

"Wasn't my place to tell," he claims.

Her sarcasm is dripping like syrup. "Yeah, it also wasn't _your_ place to let my father die."

He sighs, propping his elbows more comfortably on the metal desk. "I'm here to serve my time. I'd do it all, until you want me thrown somewhere else." His eyes pierced hers, trying to shove this down onto her, "He's gone for good."

Asami shuts her eyes tightly, hoping he's not going to say what she thinks he will. "And it's for the best-" The slap is sort of expected, and he accepts it with dignity, not even bothering to tend to the pain on his right cheek, where a visible red tint replaces a portion of his lightly tanned parlor.

"How could you say that?" Her voice is unnaturally quiet, still unable to believe he'd dare utter such a thing. She doesn't even feel remotely guilty about hitting him, and his response next indicates that she shouldn't since he's acting like she's never laid a hand on him in the first place.

"So you can understand that out of all this, you can, as ridiculous as it sounds," he wrinkles his face for a moment before going back to neutral, _"Be free."_

Seeing as he's not interrupted, he carried on. "Start fresh. Leave this curse of a shadow Hiroshi left you," he berated. "Never come back," then his eyes tracked over the translucent glass window on the upper half wall panels, and though he can't see him, Rei knows her hero lingered close by. "Let that prince of yours take you away forever."

He's pushing her to escape, when she knows she didn't even need it. She might as well be on her way.

She was fed up with all the _wonderful_ lies, and deceit, deciding she can't take it any longer before standing up abruptly, green eyes raw with emotion. "I hate you," she turns around and dashes for the door, wanting to find Iroh and just get out.

She's not fast enough to miss his final reply, "Take care, Asami."


	14. Endure

**_A/N: So.. Last chapter there was no Iroh, and this chapter only has little to no Asami.. Geez I must be bipolar, or something. Never mind. You guys.. I gotta say that in my head, Iroh would be more of a momma's boy so this is why I'm having Zahra instead of Reza sharing the moments in this. Anyways p_****_lease excuse my useless rambling and enjoy! :)_**  


**__****_Mind leaving a few words on your way out? It would mean so much to me. ❤❤❤❤❤  
_**

* * *

The Fire Lady knew her son to such depths that she's always known where to find him despite the fact that the palace area was a good five hectares at least. Call it mother intuition, you may.

However she's also pictured the garden side lounge to have both him and the Sato girl that it's a surprise when she finds the fire bender sipping his tea all by his lonesome.

Asami had cooped herself up in her room to unpack, albeit to suffer, and had graciously requested to be left alone for the remainder of the day up to dinner. Before leaving her to her demands, Iroh had offered his companionship.. _"I'll keep waiting for you. You know where to find me, Asami.."_

He remembers her grateful, yet sad smile as she watched him disappear behind closed doors._  
_

Iroh shakes his head slightly to focus and acknowledge his mother's presence with a greeting. "Good afternoon, mother," a polite smile hints his lips instead of the usual all out toothy grin.

The older royal arranges her layered dress to sit comfortably at the stool opposite the small marble table, before pouring her own cup of herbal ginseng, still steaming hot that she lets it cool by itself.

She hasn't personally welcome the couple for their return at the palace given her mandatory presence in a counseling meeting in the war room (which was just a spacious gathering and throne room in reality) earlier this morning.

The ruler places both hands on her lap, before gently questioning, "How was your trip, son?" Zahra keeps her eagerness to a minimal, because she senses there's more than meets the eye, which subtly worries her.

Iroh forces a smile as he placed the porcelain down. "It was fine, Asami made me so happy," he traces back to the remnants of their time together, the pro bending match, the exhilarating rides on her Satomobile, and the sweet simplistic dinner in her estate.

"Where is she? I've been wanting to give her a long overdue hug," the golden eyed woman grins warmly before half jokingly added, "I think I missed her more than you.."

The general doesn't know where to begin, but maybe it's best to skip to what shook the non bender- "Mother, Asami's father died."

Though thoroughly still remaining composed, the shock in her amber eyes is unmistakable. The identity of the girl's father doesn't escape her, yet the loss of a father is still no doubt a heavy weight to carry. Zahra's concern is obvious. "That- that's terrible. How is she doing?"

A sharp inhale then..

"Better than what could've been," he's faintly surprised that her more hysterical breakdown only lasted twenty-four hours and now it's just bland depression yet.. "But not enough for what I hoped for."

It's not disappointment, clearly it's not. He's really proud of her pace in terms of moving on, yet he just can't bear to see her in such a phase. Given that his way of dealing would've been even more brutal compared to hers, he knew he was being slightly hypocritical.

Iroh sighed as his mother engulfed his larger hand with her smaller ones as she bothered to drag them out over to the table. "It takes time to heal Iroh, you of all people should know that."

"I know ma, when grandmother died you sure took your time," the prodigal son humorously quipped and Zahra shakes her head at his levelheadedness.

"Darling," identical pairs of honey colored eyes met as the mother spoke, "Is she really doing alright?"

Asami had become an extension to their family that even though they weren't connected by blood, it's easy to settle to such care for the female royal. "Hiroshi's death wasn't just death," Iroh began. "It was suicide."

His mother didn't have it in her to actually gasp, but if her soul had less steel (which given quite her place in the country was impossible) she might have. Iroh makes progress in his tale, sounding more bitter than before. "A rather _loyal_ worker of his smuggled in toxins, and within a month-"

The prince felt himself clenching his teeth together, he just can't bring himself to actually say the word 'kill'. Not today, not for this cause.

"-he's gone."

_The bed is cold even when both their bodies occupy it. They were fully clothed like always.  
_

_Her back is to him, long, wavy hair shaking continuously even with just those tiny motions. He tries to be her mantle, arms hesitantly falling onto her waist and across her shoulders. But even the mere contact of their skin causes a whimper to escape her lips. _

_"He left me. He couldn't stand being in the same world I'm in," she confessed, as her lithe fingers gripped tighter and tighter to wrinkle the covers. She hasn't really told him what really happened in her visit to jail, how her interrogation went. He knows nothing at all. _

_He's been dying for answers but as she turned to face him, eyes glossy and rimmed red- no, this wasn't how he wants to hear it all. _

_She tells him every single line, every single quote of the exchanged dialogue through shaky tears, and it takes him all his heart to not tell her to just stop, and sleep. Because knowing the truth wasn't worth seeing her pain.  
_

The young adult withers from his mother's grasp, hands roughly gripping on his previously well to do hair. "I don't know what to do, mom."

The desperation sounds so strange, so unlike him, and it takes a moment for Zahra to recover from how uncanny this was. Her frown recedes, as she smiled invitingly. "Walk with me," she inquired, abandoning the post and their unconsumed drinks.

Iroh stood and caught up next to his parent, as they walked on the concrete pavement route of the large garden. They passed the pond by going over the oriental bridge through silence and he can hear the slight wind in his ear despite the summer heat.

He knows fully well where his mother's taking him so he stays quiet. They entered the large glass dome structure, the smell of exotic greenery fresh and natural.

Iroh looks up to the ceiling for a moment, seeing a faint resemblance between it and the pro bending arena. Difference was this wasn't as intricately colored nor carved. The only shapes that could be recognized on the glass was long, thin, circling dragons which were meant to honor the source of the nation's bending art.

The botany's hemispherical roof is something to behold, reflecting sunlight in such a way that it sparkles outwards and inwards too. Iroh walks a bit faster to fall in step with his mother, whom passed the medical herbs range and stopped into the makeshift fountain where the decorative flora grew.

The crowned lady gestures towards the mass of flowers, "Which one reminds you most of her?"

Iroh feels somewhat startled by the question because his mother wasn't one for riddles or moreover, poetry. Grandfather Zuko never really directly inherited such philosophy to his daughter, and instead it skipped to land on his grandson.

Zahra's always been to the point, quick, almost tactical in every way. Never recondite or transcendent. This was out of character.

But Iroh complies, and thinks for a short while. Asami was a beauty, daring, yet fragile.

He leans down to the roses, searching for ones that are painted dark red. There's about a good square feet full of them, yet almost all of them are still closed buds. It takes him a bit of effort to find one which has bloomed, but it pays off.

He carefully picks it out by the stem gently, avoiding any thorns which he may miss. He doesn't hold it out as he faced his mother, and instead fiddles with its soft petals, delicately.

"Well done," Zahra comments, stepping closer to her slightly taller child. "You see, there are things a person keeps hidden, keeps close. But even at this point, Asami is open to you, she's truthful and genuine despite the circumstances."

Iroh listens because it's rare to see his mother talk this long, she's never bothered to share so many words about love and romance. He was more used to the belittling or the personal tutoring on military strategy.

"She could've hide, or leave you because of how much has changed, how even more confused she is right now. But instead she chose to come along again. Some people who don't know her as well as we do, might have the perspective that this is some sort of rebound or a way to prevent relapse but that's not it," the middle aged woman paused. "She followed you because-"

Iroh remembers a time when both her mother and father had disagreed to his involvement in the United Forces, where they didn't want to let their baby go. Because it was the battlefield, and his blood was at risk. Because there was an uncertainty if he'd ever come back or not.

If he _could_ ever come back or not.

However after his first year of success, and rising up the ladder into a commander title (it took him two more years to earn the general title) that wasn't the worry anymore.

It became if he ever _wanted_ to come back.

The difference between desire and ability was the cruel, unpredictable mechanics of it. Whenever you could come back, you'd always be given a choice, whether you'd want to or not. And that's even more important.

"You're the only home she has."

Iroh feels the wheels turning in his head, he's realized he couldn't and could never want to ever lose her. It's not a prompt of rush, or security but he needs her to know that it's not just a place or a room to live he's willing to share with her. It's his entire heart.

He loves her. Maybe not from the very start, but long enough to begin with that it'll remain everlasting.

In a way, this was Zahra giving consent for both herself and Reza, and Iroh thought he'd be the one asking and bargaining over blessing because they never even remotely came close to go on about discussing such an issue. Heir, marriage, and whatnot.

He leans down and embraces his mother shortly before she speaks, teasingly, "Just the push you needed. Though I'm sure in a night or two you would've come to either me or your father to actually ask us." Apparently it's her time again to be all jokes now, she's entitled to it and Iroh can't help to laugh along.

Zahra rolls the loose knuckle length sleeve of her maroon tunic up to her wrist, before pulling off the jewelry off her ring finger. The stone of the ring was an angular ruby, and in it's inner base by the golden ring plate, a minute, detailed pattern of the fire nation insignia can be seen if observed for a moment.

She takes her son's hand and stretches it to a half opened palm, before placing the three generations old heirloom into his possession. Iroh feels his hand being firmly enclosed into a safe fist to protect the priceless token, as if to tell him that it was truly meant to be.

That he should go, and hurry.

"Thank you," and yes, words just aren't enough to express how much he appreciates this.


	15. Revive

**_A/N: Happy Irosami week everyone! I'm afraid I can't follow the seven prompt themes accordingly since it doesn't match up to 'Mercy', so I would like to apologize beforehand. I'm hyped to see what other Irosami shippers have in store for all of us among this period, I'm positive I'll find some great stuff out there._ **

**_I honestly don't know what came over me, but I somehow cried my eyes out writing this. Strangest thing ever.  
_**

**_Please take the time to leave a little something on the way out, would you? It'll be super nice to be able to see what you guys think of this. Enjoy! :)_  
**

* * *

She's not entirely sure what to make of this. Zahra and Reza both needn't to be disturbed, they were at a small conference with the economy minister in the eastern pavilion which was an outdoor seating room.

The servants were nowhere to be found too. Frankly she never needed them, handmaidens were rather spoiling in her opinion and there wasn't much house duty she needed to do with only one regal room to herself.

The bed was always made each time she went out for a stroll during midday. The gesture was unnecessary, but it was just them doing their job accordingly so she couldn't complain.

It was overall a quiet day. She's had breakfast alone, if it would even count as such since she barely ate a thing. She enjoyed the tea though, she took the time to breathe in the steam before sipping it from the China quietly while entertaining herself with the gorgeous tapestries atop the walls of the dining hall.

She's slightly unnerved by how uneventful her days had become. It's been a full forty-height hours since she went back from Republic City, leaving Rei to life sentencing and her father's tombstone amongst other things.

She ventures into an aimless walk through the extravagant garden, crunching green grass beneath her toes and internally apologized to the pack of turtle ducks since she hadn't brought any bread to feed them with.

The sun was quite high up in the sky even in the fairly early morning, as the Fire Nation was located in the equator that they'd receive such a convenient source of power ever since dawn.

She's not a fire bender, that she doesn't find the light tremendously precious, she's long accepted that there's no physical origin that could ever lit her veins with such a power.

She takes a tired stride back towards her room, and she's shocked when she finds a gap between the doors. She clearly remembered firmly twisting the doorknob so her room would be closed.

She quickly investigated, slipping into her quarters with light footsteps, to only find there was no intruder and every single of her belongings were in their proper places. However a stray envelope laid atop her made bedsheets.

She took it, examining the cursive writing, it was addressed to her. She teared the top open, popping out a very short and vague letter.

_Find me where you first came._

She doesn't need to question who sent such a thing, there could only be one person to request the act. Grabbing her coat, Asami jogged through the palace halls, politely rejecting the offer of being carried in a palanquin by one of the servants who were specifically assigned to serve her.

* * *

The city was a buzz. It seemed to be a replica of the crowded Jade Market along the inner districts of Republic City. Difference is everything was decorated in red.

The smell of hot foods and treats filled her nostrils. Almost all of them melded into one distinctive smell that implied a spicy taste.

Mothers purchased groceries and bargained with vendors while fathers looked after their children, and if the little boy or girl happened to be a handful, they'd be escaping to play wooden swords with other kids nearby.

She wanted to frown, really she did, as she remembered she's never done this sort of thing with her now both deceased parents. But she couldn't, such a warm sight only brought a gentle smile to her face because it tugged at her heartstrings.

She's only a few hundred feet away from the docks, where she'd first arrived and the sight of a familiar figure gets her to break into a sprint.

He's dressed in his United Forces jacket, complete with the badges and pins, hair slicked back to show his dashing bone structure and unreadable golden eyes.

She finds herself slowing down, walking the plank almost in slow motion. His boat, the United Forces boat is behind him. She's panicking in the inside. _Is he leaving? Does he have a mission? Why did he stalled this long to tell me?_

She's trying to be stoic as she climbed aboard but irrational, horrifying thoughts dominated her mind. _What if he wants me to go? What if he doesn't want me here?  
_

An electrifying sensation bites the skin of her hand as she placed it in Iroh's open one. He plants a chaste kiss atop her hand, just above her knuckles and she has the urge to swoon. _  
_

Even after all this time, the sight of him being so princely, to her of all people still feels like a dream.

She steps onto deck, and the port workers below pulled the plank off their ship, indicating the start of their voyage. Without warning the boat had sailed off, its first motions within the salt water a little too rocky for her liking.

She hasn't prepared herself from such a launch, and her heels certainly didn't help her in stabilizing her stance. The fire bender catches her, arm enveloped around her mid back, helping her stand in one quick motion.

"Whoa, easy there princess," a smile broke out on his face, perfect white teeth shown.

_That's the first time he's ever called me that._ Her heart quickens but she tries to return the look, succeeding only halfway, "Why do I have the feeling that I have to be nervous?"

"That makes two of us," Iroh admitted, letting out a small chuckle. He placed his hand at the small of her back, leading them slowly towards the side of the boat, towards the edge, no longer in the cast of shadow of the boat's pagoda roof and out into the open sun.

She can see him perfectly, the light had hit them as if it was some sort of spotlight. Granted it wasn't unbearably bright that she needed to squint, but she's just a little self conscious somehow with the lack of shade and cover.

"You're not getting deported, are you?" The fear in her voice is alike to a small child, and she hates how at times she can sound like so. He's in uniform, and there's his ship, but then again none of his crewmen were here and it seemed that they were on a private cruise, with only the captain steering.

Iroh gives their joined hands a reassuring squeeze, "No."

She lets out a relieved sigh. _Thank Agni._

"Couldn't live without me, huh?" He's teasing her for such a reaction, and these times weren't those where she'd been loud and brave. She'd been coming out of her shell, ever since her recent depression for the loss of her father, but she's not as vocal as she used to be. Not yet.

She only gave him a gentle smile, as if to say yes.

Her long hair is flowing with the light summer wind, and he can see her face clearly. The exact picture of infinite beauty. "Don't worry, neither could I," he responded answering his own question, albeit if it was reversed.

Asami's hand turns a bit slack at his words, that he holds them a little tighter. Her moss green eyes are glinting in both tenderness and doubt, he tries to convince himself that the former is stronger.

"Asami, I would like to ask you something," he began timidly.

"Go on," she tells him, not wanting the suspense to last any longer because she has no idea why he's brought her there. He wasn't one to leave riddles and instructions, that just wasn't his average approach.

"Do you remember this place?" He asks with a smidgen of hope she's not use to hearing, as if it was a question between life and death and it worries her.

She took a sideways glance out to the blue sea, they're in the middle of nowhere, nothing in sight and she's confused. For a short second she contemplates if she should tell him she's absolutely clueless, then it hits her like a ton of bricks.

He wasn't referring to their position in the archipelago (though she's sensed they've passed the Great Gates of Azulon, given how the sea was already almost void of any obstacles), he's asking her if she remembered their spot. The exact location of where they stood presently side by side.

It makes sense now. The boat. His attire. Everything.

She withdrew her hands from his hold, and he released her without hesitation. Her fingers trailed over the iron pipe of the railing, touching the bit of rough rust, the texture feeling somewhat familiar.

She takes a look down to the waves by its front, almost expecting, no inviting the slight nausea to come by and envelop her briefly. She closed her eyes, she's been there before for quite some time and she'd been alone. Before..

"You found me here," she recites, turning back towards him, the most grateful smile he's ever seen gracing her features.

Asami remembers it, crystal clear. She had been severely sea sick and disappointed at the outcome of her relationship with Mako, how he abandoned her for Korra. Another disease had crept its way into her body.

Loneliness.

Iroh had healed her. He didn't need to, but he did despite all the tragedies that awaits her. He's approached her at such a dire time, the time where she'd hated herself most, lost in the appalling amount of desperation no one could explain.

He just smiled at her, warmly requisitioned her presence at their discussion about the anti bending revolution's resistance. He invited her for tea, for the first time in his small cabin, where she saw his life's work.

This was the boat she's gotten to know him on, and so did he with her.

This was where it all began, just where she now stood, and how he came into step in accompanying her.

"Something like that," he replies, eyes clouded wistfully.

He's entranced by her choice of words, and how she'd said it so vulnerably, so admiringly as if he was her savior. It's as if she'd been dying and he'd brought her back to life.

For Asami, it was the exact truth. The control she's kept slipped, as tears suddenly pooled within her eyes, glimmering as the sun ray shone on her. She doesn't find it in herself to hide it. _You saved me._

This escape of emotion allows Iroh to find his faith.

Her mouth parts a little, shaky huffs of breath escaping when he kneels down. Her chest tightens and she forced herself to believe what's in front of her.

"I've known what it feels like to be alone," he confessed, his heart throbbing as he knows he's entering high ground, her mother was ripped from her a long time ago while her father just passed and what he has lost in comparison fades thinly against hers.

"There's a time in my life where I roamed the pacific like a fool, searching for a name when I have my family behind me who's praying every night to have me come home.."

It's retribution when he's the first one to let his voice crack, just how did his parents cope with him? He's been stubborn to break free and fly out of his nest, taking some sort of death wish when he enrolled into the United Forces the minute he finished his education.

"And now that I know how home feels like," he takes her hand and covers it with his own, pausing to see that she's let her tears slip, trailing down her cheeks like the start of rain, not wiping them away. He croaks, "My home is you, and-"

The winds get a little choppier, the noise of it increasing, and Iroh almost takes it as a blessing when he gets to let this out louder than he's ever spoken before, "I never want to let go!"

He's never admitted himself to the inability of letting go. He's always been a man of movement, tolerating bloodshed, accepting what comes and goes. But this time he won't have it. Not over his dead body.

A tearful laughter escapes her, they were out in the middle of the ocean, and his declaration soundly echoes, and amplifies to be heard from miles away. She can't get over how proud, how sure he sounded of himself.

He slips one hand into his pocket, presenting an object to her. The ring was Fire Nation, no doubt, its red stone sparkling in the light. It shocked her even more the moment she realized it's his mother's, having remembered it being adorned by the Fire Lady herself. She concluded Zahra had given it to her son, and knew of this. Approved even.

"Asami Sato of Republic City," he pronounced. He doesn't stop smiling when he utters this next, the words she's longed to hear all her life, the words she's never thought would be given to her. "I love you."

She bites her lip to decline a sob, which worked albeit partially, that her shoulder quaked once or twice from the effort. _I love you too._

"I promise you to a life of company, that not once you'd ever feel alone," he doesn't prepare any practiced vows, and these words slurred from his mouth by impulse, "There will be no hurt, no pain. Only honestly and patience."

She's nodding mutely to this, her teeth clenched in, the tiniest of elated whimpers coming from her.

"Marry me, and I will love you until my dying day," his amber eyes penetrated hers, his spirit flowing in the warm essence of a man and a fire bender. _He'll always protect me._

Her process of thought travels faster than a comet, it's been so long since she's ever find an answer this quick and she tells him, "Yes, I- I'll marry you.."

Iroh registers her affirmative reply with unbridled excitement, cue slipping the ring onto her thin finger almost instantly before sweeping the young lady off her feet.

His strength seemed to multiply as he was able to propel her higher above in the air than ever, before lowering her gently towards him.

Still encased in his arms, she steals his path of oxygen when their lips connect without resistance. With him, her heart is whole again.


End file.
